Barriers
by Caley3324
Summary: A student older than Cammie meets Joe Solomon on that first day in class. She impresses him. A lot.
1. Chapter 1

1.

_**Ally Carter owns the ideas of the Gallagher Girls series.**_

"I wonder what this is going to be like," Alicia said excitedly.

"He's so hot!" Laura shrieked.

"And late," I grumbled, glancing at the clock. "Almost five minutes late."

Leah rolled her eyes. "Geez, Katelyn, are you the only one of us that's immune? I mean, come on, he's _gorgeous_!"

Okay, so Mr. Solomon was pretty good looking. Big freaking deal. I was here to learn how to be the best spy that I could be, and if Joe Solomon could help me do that, then fine; if not, fine. His looks had nothing to do with it. "At least my stomach isn't growling," I shot back.

The senior class had CoveOps immediately following breakfast. Normally – at least, when Buckingham taught – we would get up a little later and eat breakfast before heading to class. This morning, though, had been hectic. Girls had frantically run around borrowing accessories and curling irons. It was crazy. While my roommates did each others' makeup and hair, I slept an extra thirty minutes. Then, I got up, pulled my hair in a ponytail, and pulled on a uniform. The rest of the junior class was still getting ready, so I had gone down to breakfast like a sensible person and eaten some cereal and an apple. Then, I had gone back up to get my books and had planned to go to class, but Laura wouldn't let me out of the room without at least a little makeup. My light skin was flawless, so I didn't mess with base or powder. I put on light silver eyeshadow that made my blue eyes sparkle and applied some mascara under Laura's watchful eyes. Then, I had gone to class with the rest of the juniors and now, here we were. Five minutes without a teacher.

And then Joe Solomon came through the door, his hair slightly wet and his white shirt pressed. He flashed us a smile as he walked slowly, as if he were strolling. I remembered my dad's teachings from when I was younger and I recalled the times that I had failed to listen before. Look where that had gotten me. So, I paid close attention as Joe Solomon spoke in Japanese, "What is the capital of Brunei?"

"Bandar Seri Begawan," we all replied easily. Was he serious? Did he not realize that we were all geniuses and that the question he had just asked was one that any of us could have answered in first grade?

Mr. Solomon switched to Swahili, his accent nearly perfect. "The square root of 97,969 is…"

Easy. "313," we all replied. I guess this was just a preliminary test. An easy one. Too easy, actually, which made me suspicious.

"A Dominican dictator was assassinated in 1961. What was his name?" Now he spoke Portuguese.

"Rafael Trujillo." We replied. I had read up on that before kindergarten. The assassination was allegedly done by a Gallagher Girl, but I found out later that it wasn't true. (Not that anyone would know even if it _had_ been a Gallagher Girl. We're too good to be caught.)

"Close your eyes," he said in Arabic. As I closed my eyes, my senses tingled. I knew – even if my classmates did not – that the real test was about to begin. And I knew that I would be ready. After all, my parents had trained me well.

Mr. Solomon spoke English now. "What color are my shoes?"

I was a little surprised when my voice was the only one that answered. "Black." I didn't sound like I was showing off (which I wasn't). I just sounded like I was stating a fact (which I was).

"Am I right-handed or left-handed?" he asked.

"Right," I replied and I was, once again, the only Gallagher Girl that answered.

"Since I walked into this room I have left fingerprints in five places. Name them."

I took a breath as I remembered. "Does the outside door handle count?"

I could almost hear the smile in his voice. "No."

_Darn_. _Think hard, Katelyn. Think_. "Inside door handle, the back of the empty chair on the back table to the right, the corner of that same table, your desk, and the back of your chair."

There was silence and I feared that I had gotten it wrong. _Darn, I was so sure….._ I had been paying such close attention. I thought that I had done well.

"Open your eyes," he said softly.

We all did. Joe Solomon's bright green eyes stared right into mine, and I saw something that I couldn't quite place. Maybe he was impressed; maybe he was seeing someone else in me. I can't be sure. "What's your name?" he asked, even though I was pretty sure that he already knew.

"Katelyn, sir," I replied. "Katelyn Hunter."

He nodded slowly and then his gaze shifted to my classmates, whose stomachs were grumbling on and off. "Well," he said. "Katelyn has demonstrated a very powerful sense of observation. If I sent you out into the field today – the real field, ladies – she would be the only one to survive. Do not underestimate the power of observation. It can – and someday, will – save your lives."

Everyone was hanging on his every word, including me. He seemed to know what he was talking about.

"Notice things, ladies," he said. "That's all I ask. Tomorrow, you better all be able to do what your classmate here can do. Dismissed."

Too early, I thought as I gathered my books. Joe Solomon's eyes followed me out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

2.

I knew what the sudden silence meant. I was the only one unsurprised, though. I had seen Joe Solomon's reflection in the orange juice pitcher as he was heading to our table. The other girls hadn't, though, and they were completely silent as they discreetly smoothed their hair or looked down to hide lack of makeup. I rolled my eyes. So petty, so immature. He was at least twenty-four (and was definitely older than that) and that meant that he was at least six years older than that (and probably more). None of us had a chance, but the other girls didn't seem to care.

"Hello, ladies," Mr. Solomon said in Swahili, the language of the day. "Instead of having class today, meet me outside at seven in normal clothes. Oh, and make sure that those clothes blend in."

As he began to walk away, I asked, "Blend into what environment, sir?" (In Swahili, of course.) Swahili was easy for me because I had spent the first four years of my life in Mozambique. The accent was perfect.

Mr. Solomon noticed. He raised an eyebrow. "Your Swahili is very particular. Who taught you?"

I didn't answer his question because he hadn't answered mine. "Sorry, sir, but you never answered my question."

He smiled. "I suppose I didn't. You will be civilians. Regular civilians; townspeople. Can you manage that?"

"Depends on the point of the operation," I replied. I wasn't being disrespectful, I just felt weird about going into an assignment blind. Especially if the assignment was a CoveOp. There was a lot of danger in the clandestine business, even for those of us in training. I knew that; I'd been taught that lesson very well, ever since I was five-years-old. And I had the scars to prove it.

Mr. Solomon smirked in a way that made me want to punch him. Sure, he was a highly trained operative, but I had been trained by the best, and I figured that I could take him. And if I couldn't completely beat him, I still figured that I could give him the fight of his life. He had no idea what I was capable of. And hopefully he'll never have to find out. "You will be point, Miss Hunter," he said.

"My mission?" I wasn't scared. Was he seriously trying to intimidate me? Sure, Buckingham had done nothing but show slides and tell horror stories, but I had gotten my real training during the breaks and in the summer. I was the best Gallagher Girl in the school, and I knew it. I never said it out loud, but I knew it.

"You will be tailing. Do you know-"

"Tailing?" I asked incredulously. "Seriously? That's the mission?"

He gave me another smirk. "Do you think this mission too easy for you, Miss Hunter?"

I didn't mean to sound snobby, but the words were out of my mouth so fast that I couldn't stop them. "Yes, sir, I actually do."

Everyone at the table gasped. Joe Solomon smiled. "Very well, Miss Hunter. You will take point _alone_. The rest of us will merely be there for a learning experience." He was mocking me.

"My target?" I asked.

"Mr. Smith."

I laughed. "Mr. Smith would never leave school grounds during the school year." And, besides that, he was the most paranoid man on the planet. (And he had gotten enough surgeries to prove that point.)

Mr. Solomon shook his head. "Don't ever assume that anything is true."

Of course. How had I forgotten that? All of a sudden, I was determined. I was going to succeed, and I knew that I would be able to. My parents had trained me well enough for this. Tailing someone wasn't hard. When I want to be invisible, I'm invisible. It's like a switch that I can turn on and off at any time. It's every spy's best friend.

"Yes, sir."

He gave a curt nod. "See you this evening, ladies."

I stood up from the table before he'd even taken a step away. I walked out of the dining hall and up to my room. Sure, I pretty much had the book memorized, but I still wanted to go over some surveillance techniques…..just in case. If Mr. Solomon was going to be watching my every move, waiting to mock me, then I was going to give him absolutely nothing to mock. I was going to be perfect. I was going to be the best spy ever. I was going to be a Hunter.

Classes went by more slowly than normal but it finally turned six. I changed into a black T-shirt and a red Underarmor hoodie, along with jeans and Nikes. (Rule number one of tracking – well, at least for a spy girl – is: wear comfortable shoes.) I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and even sat still long enough for Laura to do my makeup, which I normally wouldn't let her do.

I walked downstairs with all of the girls and I nearly laughed when I saw that some of them were wearing heels. Some girls had their hair curled; others had theirs in fancy updos. I, myself, thought that I was going to choke on all of the perfume wafting around. I pushed open the doors and we all stepped inside. We waited for a few minutes until a UPS truck came speeding up the drive. Mr. Solomon parked and said, "Get in!"

I didn't hesitate to hop inside, knowing that this was going to be the best op ever.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

I looked around at the people of Roseville and smiled to myself, thinking about how normal I looked. Sure, I wasn't actually normal. I could, after all, speak seventeen languages and kill a man with a paper clip. But, none of the civilians knew that. To them, I was just a teenage girl passing through. Normally, I would feel a little insulted that they underestimated me. I'm not _just_ a teenage girl. I'm a spy. I'm a pavement artist. I'm the best. But, I didn't even feel slightly annoyed as little old ladies smiled at me and guys checked me out from the corner of their eye. It was fun, actually, to just be walking through a normal town.

Mr. Smith flipped and I kept walking, totally not worried. Roseville wasn't a huge town, so I wasn't even remotely worried about loosing him. There was a lot of activity going on in the square, though, so I made sure that my senses were sharp. Vaguely, I wondered what Mr. Smith was even doing in town, but I decided not to worry about it. It really wasn't any of my business. My only business was to tail him and find out what his favorite snack food is.

Not too hard, right?

Wrong.

Mr. Smith was using every countersurveillance technique in the book (seriously, I memorized the book) and it was getting tiring. I was glad for my clothing choice (because blisters on the feet are _very_ uncomfortable). I wished that I would have been able to get my hands on a wig or something, but Mr. Solomon said that spies don't always have the luxury of a disguise closet. He was right, of course, but it still made me kind of angry. H knew that one of the hardest things to do is tail someone that knows you. And Mr. Smith knew me very well because I was his best student. I had lived in most of the countries that he lectured on, so we could get into some pretty good conversations. Yes, the assignment was difficult, but I knew that I could do it. I just had to stay completely focused.

Mr. Smith checked one last time for tails and I remained hidden. He walked into a store and I smiled to myself. Bingo. Now, I just had to wait outside of the store, making sure that I had a clear view of the window so that I could see what snack he was purchasing. Too easy.

Yep, too easy.

"Whoops, sorry," said a guy as he bumped into me. He was about my age, with curly blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was six feet tall and his skin was borderline tan. And I knew him. We used to practice languages together.

"How's your Farsi, Rider?" I asked with a smile, amused.

He studied me closely for a second and then laughed. When he spoke, it was in flawless Farsi. "Wow, Katelyn, you've grown up."

"So have you," I laughed and we hugged. "What are you even doing here? Last I checked, you were in Indonesia."

He gave me that cocky grin that I had missed so much. Rider and I had been best friends. "Indonesia got a little too boring for my taste. What about you, Gallagher Girl? What are you doing in this small little town?"

"I'm on a mission." Shoot. I glanced at the window just in time to see Mr. Smith leaving. With a bag of Cheetos. Bingo.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked.

"I just completed my mission," I said.

"Which was?"

"Guy in the brown hat," I said. Rider looked. "I just had to find out what kind of snack food he likes to get."

"So, are you going to name the Cheetos in his hand or the Corn Chips in his back pocket?"

Shoot, I hadn't even noticed those, which was unusual for me. But Rider had always been hyper-observant, so I couldn't really get angry at him. "Both, I guess."

He smirked. "You didn't see the Corn Chips, did you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so cocky, Rider."

He shrugged. "It's in my blood. So, will I be seeing you around?"

"Not unless you enroll at Gallagher sometime soon," I laughed.

He sighed dramatically. "Guess I'll just have to wait for Christmas."

"You'll be at our Christmas?" I asked.

He laughed. "Yeah."

"Fun, see you there."

He nodded. "I'll get you a present if you get me one."

"Deal," I smiled. "I've got to get back. It was great seeing you."

"You, too."

We hugged one more time and we had barely pulled away when Rider disappeared with the crowd. I smiled, remembering that he was a pavement artist, just like me. Maybe even better.


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: SOOOOOO sorry that I haven't updated in FOREVER! Please don't kill me! Again, I do not own the ideas of Ally Carter! **_

4.

Alicia and Laura were still peppering me with questions, even though it was an hour and a half later and we had just been through a debrief in the CoveOps classroom with Joe Solomon, where he had pointed out that one should never talk to a civilian while on a mission. I had then pointed out that Rider wasn't a civilian, he was practically one of us. Joe Solomon hadn't appreciated that remark.

Leah was fixing me with a steady gaze as she sank onto her bed, watching me pull off my top and slip into my pajamas. Laura, however, was still going on. "You never told us that you knew a boy spy!"

"A _cute_ boy spy," Alicia added, pulling her long blond hair over her right shoulder, a little quirk of hers.

I shrugged. "It never came up."

"Never came up?" Laura asked from the bathroom, in a voice that said that my excuse wasn't good enough. "Remember, last year, when we were wondering if there was a school that trained _guys_ like us? Hmm?"

I rolled my eyes as I pulled my dark hair into a high ponytail and secured it with an elastic. "Yeah, I do."

"Why didn't you say anything then?" Alicia said, her voice slightly muffled behind the T-shirt she was pulling over her head.

I sighed as I sank onto my bed. "I dunno, guys; I really don't. Rider and I were born about the same time and our parents were close friends, so we always were too."

"And?" Leah prompted. It was the first time she had spoken and I looked over at her. She was watching me, her brown eyes narrowed slightly like she did when she was trying to figure something out. She hadn't changed into her pajamas – she still wore jeans and a light blue top, her light brown hair straight to her shoulders.

"And," I continued, "we grew up together, Rider and I. We lived together in Mozambique when we were toddlers. After that, we moved to France with our parents. Then to Thailand, then Spain, then Argentina…" I took a breath, tracing the pattern on my bedspread with the index finger of my right hand. "You get the picture; our families stuck together so Rider and I became very close-knit. Best friends. We practiced languages and martial arts together; we learned together. And then, when we were twelve – right before I came to Gallagher – his parents decided that they wanted him to go to a spy school in Germany. So, he moved away and I haven't seen him since then."

"It must have been strange," Leah commented. "Seeing him tonight, I mean."

I shook my head, smiling slightly. "No, not strange. It was…great. And knowing that he's going to be at family Christmas…"

"Do you like him?" Alicia asked slyly, coming out of the bathroom.

I rolled my eyes. "No. Rider and I are best friends. At least…we _were_. I don't know now; maybe he found a better friend at that school of his."

"You two grew up together," Leah said, giving me a sympathetic smile. "Nothing beats a bond like that."

"So, why didn't you ever mention him?" Laura asked.

They all looked at me, waiting for my answer.

I sighed and stood up, heading for the bathroom. "I guess…I guess I was just trying to get over him. I didn't know if I'd ever see him again."

"That must have been hard," Alicia said.

"It was." I turned on the water in the sink and began to wash my face with my Clean & Clear face wash. My thoughts turned to Rider and I began to remember all of the fun times that we had experienced together. We had been through a lot.

Leah came into the bathroom in pajama pants and a tank top, pulling her hair into a messy bun. She gave me a smile in the mirror and reached for the tap of the other sink. She washed her face with Neutrogena and it was quiet for a few minutes. I brushed my teeth and used mouthwash, and she did the same.

Finally, as she was flossing, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" I asked, pulling the floss through my teeth almost automatically. I was sort of on auto-pilot, my mind turned mostly to thoughts of Rider.

"Because you just saw someone that you thought was out of your life forever and you acted perfectly normal…and so did he. Did it hurt you that he didn't act more excited?"

"I didn't act excited, either," I pointed out. "And Rider and I learned at a very young age to control our emotions. Spies do that, you know."

She nodded slowly and then reached for her mouthwash. As she filled the cap, she asked, "Are you nervous to see him at Christmas?"

"No," I shook my head. "It'll be fun."

"You're worried," she commented.

I looked at her, my eyes wide. "Worried? Me? About what?"

She paused. "About letting him get close to you again." And then she put the mouthwash in her mouth and began to swish it around.

I thought for a few moments. Was that the case? No, Leah was just paranoid. Although, she was my best friend – of my roommates, anyway – and she usually knew how I felt. Could she be right?

I shrugged and threw my floss away. "Nah."

She spit out the mouthwash and rinsed her mouth with water. "Well, you should know, I don't think Mr. Solomon was as much mad at the fact that you were talking to a civilian as the fact that that civilian was Rider."

I was confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She screwed the lid back onto her mouthwash and sighed. "It just seemed like he knew who Rider was-"

I interrupted. "He could have known Rider's parents. They're CIA, just like mine."

She continued as if I'd never interrupted her. "And it seemed like he was watching the way you two were interacting."

"And…?" She wasn't making any sense.

She shot me a smile and said, "It seemed like he was jealous."

"_Jealous_?" I asked incredulously. "Mr. Solomon was jealous of Rider? For what, his pavement artist skills?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Geez, Katelyn, you can be thick sometimes. No, he was jealous because of the way you were reacting to Rider. I think Mr. Solomon thinks that you like Rider."

"And…?" I felt like this was all going in circles over my head.

Her sigh was a little louder. "Katelyn, I think Mr. Solomon likes you." And then, she turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving me staring, open-mouthed, after her.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

The next morning, I awoke in kind of a daze. Leah had said no more about Mr. Solomon liking me – and as far as I knew, she hadn't told Alicia and Laura of her suspicions – and yet, I couldn't get the idea out of my head. I mean, I wasn't one of those girls that swooned over him and had fantasies about him – ew! – but I still couldn't quit thinking about it.

What if he did like me? Where would that go? I didn't exactly know how much older he was, but I guessed at least seven years, probably a couple more. And wasn't it immoral for teachers to like students? But wait, could you control who you liked? I figured that you probably could; I wouldn't know, I had never liked anyone that way. I was never really around guys all that much – other than Rider, but Rider was my best friend.

I couldn't sleep, though the other girls were still out like lights, so I threw the covers off of myself and grabbed the things I needed before going into the bathroom and locking the door. I took a shower, letting the water relax my tense muscles, and then I got out and toweled off before changing into my uniform. I put stuff in my hair so that it would scrunch naturally (Laura always said she was jealous because mine could do it with very little effort and look fabulous) and applied a little bit of makeup. When I was done, I walked out to find that Leah was stirring, Laura was still out, and Alicia was gathering her stuff for her turn in the shower.

"Morning," she said, giving me a sleepy smile as she passed me to go into the bathroom.

"Morning," I replied as the door shut.

I put everything away and then sat on my bed with my favorite book, which was a large book that held the complete works of Shakespeare. I wasn't big on the whole "love story" thing, but I liked his style of writing and the poetry was exquisite.

Finally, Alicia came out of the bathroom wearing her uniform, her long blond hair straightened and her makeup barely noticeable. Alicia was sort of like me, she didn't really like to show herself off.

Leah went into the bathroom next and Alicia put her stuff away before sitting on my bed. "Shakespeare again?"

I shrugged.

She smiled. "Which play?"

"_Romeo and Juliet_," I replied, still reading.

"Ah," she said. "Young love."

"Yeah," I scoffed. "Love. They were stupid. If she had waited a bit longer, she would have found out that he was still alive."

She shrugged. "Love is stupid."

"How would _you_ know?" I smirked, looking up at her.

She rolled her eyes and gestured to Laura's bed. "Should we wake her?"

"You can," I said, looking back down at my book. Laura was _not_ a morning person.

Alicia sighed and got off of my bed and headed for Laura's. She crouched down and then lifted the mattress slightly. Laura woke with a shriek and Alicia let the mattress plop back down, roaring with laughter.

"Not funny!" Laura growled, getting out of her bed just as Leah came out of the bathroom, her hair scrunched like mine and her makeup a little darker. She raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Alicia and I were laughing too much to recount.

Later, in class, Leah leaned over to whisper, "Are you okay?"

"Just thinking," I replied.

"About?"

"Things." I checked my watch. Mr. Solomon would – if he chose to be on time, that is – be arriving in a little under five minutes. Oh, the joy. I could barely contain my excitement. (Sarcasm, if you didn't catch that.)

"Look," she said softly so as not to be overheard. Not that she could have been anyway; the rest of the class was talking about their new lip gloss or their plans to shop for new clothes on the first available trip into town. "I don't know if it's true; I'm not a mind reader."

"Sometimes you could fool me," I muttered.

She smiled. "I'm just intuitive. And I'm just telling you what I think. It _looked_ like he was jealous. That's all I'm saying. I'm not saying that he was."

"But you start off by reminding me how intuitive you are," I said, spinning my mechanical pencil around and around in my hand. "That just conflicts with your later statement that you don't _know for sure_. You being so intuitive makes me think that you _do_ know for sure."

She shrugged. "So what if he does?"

"That's what I'm wondering," I murmured.

"You don't like him, do you?" she asked, sounding concerned now. Leah was always like the mother hen in our room. In our first year, she had made sure that everyone had washed their face and brushed their teeth before bed. She had grown out of it slightly, but she was still the most concerned of all of us. "I mean, you were the only one that was indifferent towards him the first few days."

"I still am," I said. "It would just be weird, you know?"

She nodded. "I know."

The door opened and Joe Solomon strode in, closing the door behind him. The class all faced the front and didn't so much as whisper a word. Mr. Solomon strolled to the front in his usual neatly pressed white shirt, his hair messy. "Good morning, ladies."

"Good morning," everyone except for me replied. I said nothing. I was still a little bitter towards him for trying to correct me. No matter what he said, Rider _was_ one of us.

"Ms. Hunter," he said, looking right at me with his bright green eyes. "I said 'good morning'."

"I heard you," I replied coolly.

Several of my classmates gasped.

"Is something the matter, Ms. Hunter?"

I stared hard at him, my blue eyes meeting his green ones. I studied his expression carefully. He didn't seem angry; he just seemed like he was trying to figure out why I was acting so cold towards him. Maybe he expected me to be like every other girl and fawn over him.

But I wouldn't.

"No, sir," I replied. "I'm fine, thanks."

He didn't believe me, I could tell.

"So, today we will be carefully studying Ms. Hunter's actions of last night-"

"We did that already," I interrupted, earning several more gasps from the class. "Last night. We debriefed."

"I suggest you don't tell me how to teach my class, Ms. Hunter."

I didn't care about the consequences. I stood, shouldered my bag, and marched right out of the classroom.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

"You shouldn't have walked out of class."

I had expected Leah to come after me, or maybe even Alicia or Laura, but I had _not_ expected Joe Solomon, which sort of meant that I had made a mistake. Spies should expect the unexpected (which kind of makes the unexpected expected, but we'll not go into all of that just now).

I sighed but didn't turn around. I was staring out of a window, looking out across the beautiful grounds. The woods looked calm and peaceful from here, but I remembered how dark they could be. (Leah, Laura, Alicia and I had a little experience with the woods in our second year at Gallagher.) I didn't want to turn around a face him, mostly because I knew that I was wrong. I knew that I shouldn't have lost my temper and I shouldn't have acted out of anger. I should have remained in my seat, teeth grit and fists clenched through the lesson.

"I know," I said finally, still staring out the window. I saw a group of seventh graders coming towards the mansion from the P&E barn. The bell had rang, but no one ever came down this corridor, so I had known that I would be safe.

"I figured you would," he said, coming to stand right beside me. I flinched at his closeness, but I said nothing and if he noticed my flinch – which I'm assuming he did – he didn't say anything. "You're a smart girl. Top of your year, I hear."

"So you've been asking around about me." It wasn't phrased as a question, but it kind of was. I wanted to know if he had been, because maybe that meant that Leah was right about him liking me. But what then? What was I supposed to do about it?

"In a sense, I suppose. I wasn't really asking around, but before the year began, Mr. Smith was talking about your class and he mentioned you, calling you – verbatim – "the best spy to ever walk through these doors", so I asked him a little more about you."

"And what did charming Mr. Smith have to say?" I asked. Mr. Smith was, perhaps, my favorite teacher and I had always had a suspicion that I was his favorite students. I had lived in most of the places that he lectured about and we often had conversations about where we would live within certain countries.

"That you're brilliant. A natural; one of the best spies he's ever seen despite your age."

_Despite your age_. I snorted and Mr. Solomon noticed. "Does something about that statement offend you? He spoke very highly of you."

"I'm sure he did," I replied, watching as a seventh grader was escorted by a teacher towards the mansion, holding a towel over her nose which, I assumed, was broken. Probably a stray kick. It had happened to Laura in eighth grade and she had cried on and off for a month because she thought that he nose would never be beautiful again. Over the summer between eighth and ninth grade, she had gotten surgery on it to fix it. Sure, she was petty, but I still loved her.

"Then why are you offended?"

"I don't recall ever saying that I was," I replied, wondering if the girl would cry as much as Laura had. Probably not. I had yet to meet a person as petty as Laura. If I did, I would certainly ask for an autograph.

"You snorted," he said, sounding slightly frustrated.

""You're frustrated," I said calmly, still staring out the window, though there was nothing interesting to look at. I knew that Mr. Solomon was facing me, but I paid him no mind.

He spoke. "We're not talking about me; we're talking about _you_."

"Why?"

"You know why!" he said, indignantly. "You stormed out of my class and now you're up here acting like nothing's wrong."

"Nothing _is_ wrong," I said simply, finally turning to face him. His arms were folded across his chest and he was looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and frustration. I almost smiled. I loved affecting people like that. I loved being a mystery. Not for the attention – no, I hated attention – but because it made me feel like I was good at something. And I really didn't want people to know the real me, what I was capable of. I needed to remain a mystery.

He calmed a little bit and asked, "Why did you leave class?"

"Why did you feel the need to analyze every single thing I did last night all over again?" I retorted.

"I'm the teacher," he replied. "I'll decide what should be taught in class."

"I already got my lecture about last night," I said. "_Last night_. I don't need another one today." I was keeping my anger in check, but not without effort.

He narrowed his eyes. "You don't think so? Well, I do."

"Why?" I challenged, throwing my hands in the air. "What's the point? I heard you loud and clear last night. We all did. So, why?" I didn't sound angry. I sounded exasperated. And I hated displaying my emotions like that. Why was I letting him get to me like that? I had always been so good at hiding my emotions.

"Because I care!" he said, as if the answer should have been obvious from the beginning. "Do you think that I want you going out there in the field – the real world – one day and getting hurt? Do you think I want to wonder if I did my job well enough, if you're well enough prepared? I care! I don't want to see you get hurt!"

_Me?_ I wondered. _Or everyone else in the class, too? Is it me that you care the most about? Is that what you're insinuating?_ Instead of saying that out loud – which would have led to a conversation that I didn't want to have – I said, "I can take care of myself. I know that you think I'm not well enough prepared, but I am. I had training before I came to Gallagher, okay? I'm good enough, believe me. If only you knew…"

"Knew what?" he asked, looking at me intently now.

Crap. I hadn't meant to say anything like that. I didn't want anyone to know about my life before Gallagher. That's why I didn't want to let anyone into my life. I wanted to remain as closed off as possible. And I had almost broken my own barriers down. "I have to go to class, Mr. Solomon; I'm already late. The tardy bell will ring in three seconds."

Three. Two. One.

_Ring!_

I turned around and headed for C.O.W., leaving a dumbfounded Mr. Solomon behind me.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

Christmas break was drawing nearer and nearer and it made me a little nervous. Rider and I hadn't talked in quite a while, which made trying to figure out what to buy him for Christmas a real pain. I had never been the type to settle for a gift card or cash and I knew for a fact that Rider had always hated getting clothes as presents. He would rather buy his own clothes. He was the only person that I still had to buy for, though, and time was running low.

One trip to Roseville was all that it took to shop for everyone else. I had gotten a cute, black clutch for my mom and a new MP3 player for my dad. For Alicia, I had gotten a cute hair straightener case and I had gotten a Laura a cute top that I found hidden among racks of other clothes. Leah would be receiving a book, a collection of candy, and new lip gloss from me. I had no idea what to buy Rider, though, and it was killing me.

"You'll figure something out," Leah said brightly as we headed into the CoveOps classroom.

I shrugged and headed for my usual seat. "I guess."

Mr. Solomon was, shockingly, already in the classroom, perched lightly on the edge of his desk wearing his usual pressed white shirt and brown shoes, his blond hair wavy and his green eyes bright. He smiled, "Good morning, Ms. Hunter."

Ever since my display of blatant disrespect towards him, he had been sure to address me directly in class each day. It didn't bother me, though. I tossed my curled hair over one shoulder much like Alicia always did. "Good morning, Mr. Solomon."

Leah then took to whispering, since we were so close to Mr. Solomon's desk. I had a feeling that he could still understand us, however. Perhaps he could read lips as I could. Oh well. "Maybe you could get him a CD. What kind of music does he like?"

"He likes everything," I commented. "But I don't know what he has and doesn't have."

"Hmm," she said. "You could try-"

"Ladies, listen up," Mr. Solomon said. "Today, we will be watching slides. You will have three seconds to memorize every little detail of the slide and then you will close your eyes. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," we all replied.

He turned off the lights and started up the slideshow. "Eyes closed."

We obeyed.

"Miss Parkinson, what is the license plate number of the blue van?"

Alicia rattled off her response, hesitating only slightly on the last two. "Next slide," he said and we all opened our eyes to look. "Eyes closed."

"Jacket on," I murmured under my breath and Leah snickered. It was a line from _The Karate Kid_ with Jaden Smith and Jackie Chan, where Jaden's character is learning martial arts by taking his jacket on and off.

"Miss Dodson, what was wrong with the picture?"

Leah held in her snickers. "The salad fork was on the wrong side of the plate."

"Eyes open."

I only halfheartedly observed the next slide. Taking in details was a natural thing for me, anyway. My brain just automatically took everything in. I can't really describe how it feels… Let's just say that you're a kid who really really likes Kool-Aid. So, let's say that you make Kool-Aid all of the time because you absolutely refuse to drink anything else. Well, after a while of making Kool-Aid every day, you eventually get to where you don't have to think about how much sugar to put in, right? It's kind of just a natural instinct. Muscle memory. That's how it was with me and observing things. My parents – especially my father – had trained me from a young age to notice everything.

"Eyes closed."

This was, admittedly, getting very boring. I only partly listened to Jordan tell him that the gray umbrella was located in the corner of the room, next to the dead body. Tedious; that's what CoveOps was becoming. I already knew all of this stuff; I had already been trained to do this stuff. When Buckingham had taught the class, it hadn't been exciting at all, but at least then, we all knew that she wasn't really attempting to do anything worthwhile. She was too old. But with Mr. Solomon, I felt like we should be doing more; going out on missions.

"Eyes open."

What I saw completely freaked me out. I had been there before, with my parents. I had _lived_ there. The living room was exactly like the one in the house I had lived in when I had lived in Mozambique. It was small, with a white couch and black loveseat. The coffee table was made of beautiful wood and upon it, there was a vase of fresh flowers and a stack of magazines. In the corner, there was a coat hanger that held my father's burly black coat, my mother's faux fur one, and my small pink one. Yes, that was definitely the room from my Mozambique house. Even stranger, it was from the time I had lived there. How in the world had Mr. Solomon gotten his hands on that picture? I mean, the CIA had been monitoring the house, but that was nearly thirteen years ago.

"Eyes closed."

I closed my eyes, that strange feeling in my stomach telling me that Mr. Solomon was going to call on me. And he did. "Ms. Hunter, how many magazines were on the table?"

"Five," I answered in a whisper. My mother never kept more than five out. Four wasn't a good enough selection and six was too much. Five was just right, and that was still how she did it.

"Okay, ladies, you may open your eyes," he said. "Good class everyone. See you all tomorrow."

We stood to go and Leah touched my arm, concern etched on her face. "Katelyn, are you okay? You look really pale."

"I'm fine," I muttered as I shouldered my bag and turned to go.

"Ms. Hunter?"

I grit my teeth and turned around. I didn't like that Joe Solomon had something from my past and I hated the fact that he had flouted it in class even more. Was he just trying to show me who was boss? Was he trying to prove that he was better than me? "Yes?"

"_Are_ you alright?"

That wasn't what I had expected. Why couldn't I ever understand Mr. Solomon? "Fine, sir," I replied.

Something flashed in his eyes, but I couldn't tell what it was and it was gone too quickly for me to analyze it. "Very well. On to your next class, then."


	8. Chapter 8

8.

_Finally_, I thought as I got out of my mother's car and looked at the all-too-familiar house. Same red bricks, same black shingled roof, same tree in the middle of the front yard. I could see the Christmas lights strung up and I even caught a glimpse of the Christmas tree that waited in the living room.

With my bag in tow, I headed for the house at a jog. I was barely in the door when I was tackled in a hug, which made me drop my tote and laugh helplessly. I knew it was Rider. I could smell his cologne and that scent that was just…Rider. I saw his curly – yet really short – blond hair and when he pulled away to hold me at arm's length, I saw his bright blue eyes dancing. "Welcome home, Kay."

And never had it felt so good to be home. Don't get me wrong, I knew that my parents loved me. But, it always seemed as though they were…indifferent towards me. They rarely smiled and the only time they talked to me was when they were asking about my training. They wanted me to "uphold the family honor" so to speak. That's what they had been training me all my life for.

Rider's parents were much the same way.

"Thanks, Rider," I laughed lightly and observed the living room, which held a large, white Christmas tree with bright lights of all different colors and purple and blue ornaments. It was beautiful, and I had never seen it look more beautiful.

"Come on," he said eagerly after he had given me a full ten seconds to look around the room. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the stairs. "Drop your bags off in your room, change, and we'll snowball fight!"

I laughed as he all but shoved me into my room, closing the door behind me. I set my bag down and changed into black pants and a waterproof jacket that Dr. Fibbs had invented, which wouldn't let in moisture and kept you toasty warm. (I only got to have one because I had helped him test them.)

Finally, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and found Rider waiting in the hall. 'Your dad is reading in the living room', he mouthed, and I nodded. Never bother Dad while he was trying to read. Silently, Rider and I crept down the stairs and out the front door.

"I found the perfect spot for a snowball fight yesterday," he said as we walked side by side. "It has just the right amount of cover and it's far enough away from the house that your parents won't come out and tell us to shush."

"Where are _your_ parents?" I asked, looking over at him, taking in everything from the black cap he wore, pulled low over his forehead, to the black boots. In fact, he was wearing all black, just like me.

He shrugged. "You know them; not huge celebrators." This was, in fact, very true. Rider's parents liked to keep to themselves and although they'd always been nothing but kind to me, I knew that they were very tough on Rider, just like my parents were on me.

"They let you come all alone?"

"I finally convinced them that it would be good for me to come to America for a little while. So, they contacted your parents and I'm actually doing sort of an exchange type thing."

"With Blackthorne?" I asked, knowing all about the top secret boy's spy school because that's where my father had gotten his training.

He shook his head and pulled a tree branch out of our way. "With your parents. They're giving me training every day while I'm here."

"How long will you be here?" I asked hopefully.

He laughed. "At least through the holidays and probably a month longer."

"Excellent," I replied. We reached a medium-sized clearing and I could see what Rider meant about it being perfect. There were a few boulders to hide behind and there was plenty of snow to throw.

"Ready?" Rider questioned, raising an eyebrow at me and grinning.

I grinned back. "Born ready."

"Go!" he shouted and we took off running in different directions, both of us laughing. Snowballs flew through the air and suddenly we were little kids, just playing around. It felt so good to have my friend back that I was filled from nose to toes with insane happiness.

Finally, after we were both too tired to throw any more, we collapsed onto the snow, side by side. "How's school?" he asked, still panting lightly.

"Oh, yeah, you'll never believe this." I then proceeded to tell him everything about Mr. Solomon's slide show quiz and the picture of my own living room from my old house. He listened quietly, and then asked, "Did he know it was yours?"

"How could he have not?" I challenged. "He asked me the question at the end."

"Maybe that was a coincidence."

"Come on, Rider," I sat up, looking at him as he sat up too. "I mean, it's just really weird. He's frustrated at first because he can't figure me out and now…maybe he has."

"I don't think anyone can ever really figure people like us out, Kay," he said softly.

I looked down at the trampled snow. "No, I guess not."

"You really think that he – what – hacked into a CIA database or something?"

Now that Rider had said it, it sounded so ludicrous. "No. But how did he get the picture?"

"I told you," Rider explained, smiling. "Coincidence. The CIA probably put those pictures together on the slide for him. It's not like he pulled them off of Google or something."

"I never thought that," I mumbled.

His face softened. "I know you didn't. And maybe you're right to wonder about it; I probably would too. And what would you tell me?"

I grinned. "To check it out."

"Then do that," he smiled. "But in the meantime…"

He leaned closer and pressed his lips softly to mine. It shocked me for a second before I fell into it and felt a warmth spread from my chest to every other part of my body. He pulled away and whispered, his breath fanning my cheek. "I've wanted to do that for _so_ long."

"Ditto," I said before putting a hand behind his neck and pulling him in again.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

All I could do was listen to my roommates talk. I wasn't even paying attention as Leah talked about her trip to New York. I was thinking about Rider and how much I missed him already. The rest of my break had been much the same as the first day: Rider and I snuck off to be alone and kissed and talked in the cover of the trees. He had told me everything that he had been up to and I had done the same. We had conversed in all kinds of different languages and he had taught me a little bit of Thai, which they didn't teach me at Gallagher and which my parents hadn't gotten around to teaching me. I could speak twenty languages: English, Spanish, Mandarin, Arabic, Bengali, Hindi, Russian, Portuguese, Japanese, German, Farsi, Korean, French, Vietnamese, Telegu, Swahili, Turkish, Italian, Polish, and Persian. Most of them I had learned before I even came to Gallagher. My parents moved us around a lot, so as a kid, I learned those languages. Usually, they would leave me home with a babysitter while they went out and I would learn things about the country or the language while they were out on missions.

Usually, Rider would be with me, too. I missed him so much already. I smiled, remembering the easy smile on his face and his bright blue eyes. I remembered the feel of his curly hair under my fingers and the way that he would kiss my forehead at random moments. I remembered him sneaking into my room after my parents went to bed and our long walks with our fingers intertwined.

Perfect.

"Katelyn?"

"Earth to Katelyn."

"What?" I asked, snapping back to the present. "Sorry."

My roommates were grinning at me. Alicia flipped some of her blond hair out of her eyes. "Do tell."

"Tell what?"

Leah shrugged. "Whatever it was you were so absorbed thinking about."

I shook my head. "Nothing. Nothing at all." If my parents had caught me with that dreamy look on my face…they would have punched me or something. Spies don't show emotion; they had taught me that from a very young age. Any emotion that we show is supposed to be fake. But I had always been bad at that. I was a naturally happy and bubbly person.

My roommates didn't look like they believed me one bit. Rightly so; I doubted very much that I was even slightly convincing. I had been forced to act natural over the whole break and it was killing me inside. I wanted to show how happy I was. And then, I started to giggle uncontrollably.

It was so unlike me that my roommates were shocked for a few moments and then, Leah grinned. "Tell us!"

"About…what….?" I asked between giggles.

They all began to laugh and finally, we all settled down and I began to tell them about my break. Mostly, I just recounted moments with Rider, occasionally adding in a lie about my parents interacting with me as well.

I finally finished and they all told me how wonderful it was and Leah said she had totally seen it coming. Then, finally, I was able to actually listen as Laura talked about her vacation to England with her parents. She talked about all of the cute guys that she had flirted with and then Leah talked about her quiet break at home with her parents in Michigan.

I was jealous of all three of them. Sure, I had Rider; but I still wanted parents that cared about me. I wanted them to see how hard I had worked for them and how much I desperately wanted to please them. I wanted them to acknowledge my efforts once…just once.

A knock on the door rendered us all silent.

"Come in," Leah said when it was clear that no one else was going to.

Alicia fell off of her bed at the shock of seeing Joe Solomon enter the room. Laura gasped audibly and ran her fingers roughly through her dark hair, even though it was already lying perfectly flat. Leah's mouth fell open and she was obviously too shocked to speak.

I was the only one unaffected. "Hello, Mr. Solomon. Did you have a pleasant break?"

He gave me a small smile. "Very pleasant, Ms. Hunter. And yourself?"

"Fine," I replied nonchalantly. "Can we help you with something?"

Alicia crawled back onto her bed, keeping her head down to hide her intense blush. Laura had finally stopped trying to fix her hair and now she looked very much like Leah, except that Leah wasn't eyeing his gray button down shirt and jeans.

"Actually," he said. "I was hoping to speak with you alone for a moment."

"Me?" I questioned, pointing at myself.

He nodded. "Out in the hall for a moment, please."

I shrugged and got off of my bed, straightening my pink shirt and pointedly ignoring the other girls' questioning stares. Mr. Solomon moved so that I could pass by him and then he came out into the hall after me, closing the door behind him.

"Follow me," he murmured.

"I thought we were speaking in the hall?" I questioned.

He didn't quit walking. "There are a lot of halls in this mansion, Ms. Hunter."

He was right, of course. So, I followed him away from the girls' rooms and towards the other end of the castle. I trailed behind him a couple of steps and I noticed that our footsteps didn't make any noise against the floor. We were both well trained spies that knew better than to make any kind of sound.

Finally, he stopped, right beside a window, and turned to face me. His green eyes were even brighter and I couldn't help but think of a cat's eyes as he spoke in a soft voice. "I need to warn you, Ms. Hunter."

"Warn me?" I questioned. "About what?"

"There are good spies and bad spies-"

"Well, duh," I responded, crossing my arms over my chest.

He didn't lecture me for being cheeky. Actually, he seemed sort of…nervous. He was a well trained spy and he handled his emotions well, but I was also a well trained spy and I could just tell. It was in his eyes. And his voice, though only slightly. "Ms. Hunter, people can change. It's sad, but they do."

"What are you saying?" I was thoroughly confused.

He sighed. "Just be careful of the company you keep. And remember that people – especially the people that we haven't seen in a long time – can change. And most likely have."

"If you're talking about Rider-"

"Doesn't it seem a bit _odd_ to you, Ms. Hunter, that Rider just _happens_ to turn up while we're in Roseville? Of all the nights that he could have been there…"

"Coincidence," I said, though some wheels were trying to turn in the back of my mind. No, I didn't want to doubt Rider. He was all that I had. I had been living without hope for so long… But he was the only person left to care about me that actually knew the real me.

"And he just _happens_ to run into you?"

"But-"

"Ms. Hunter, I'm trying to protect you. Please, just be careful. And I think it would be best if you-"

"How did you get that picture?" I interrupted. Rider doubted Mr. Solomon and Mr. Solomon doubted Rider.

"What picture?" he asked, confused.

"The one of my home in Mozambique from when I was four!" I said, not knowing why I was suddenly so angry.

He raised an eyebrow, confused. "What?"

"The one with the five magazines on the table!"

He looked dumbfounded. "What do you mean, that was your house?"

"It was my house!" I yelled. "I lived there when I was four! And you had a picture of it!"

Now, he just looked genuinely confused. "I don't know, Katelyn. I honestly have no clue. I didn't put those slides together."

"Wait a second," I muttered. "How did you know I was with Rider over the break?"

"Like I said," he replied, his expression becoming neutral again. "There are good spies and bad spies, Ms. Hunter."

Before I could interrupt, he leaned so close that I could smell the spearmint on his breath when he said, "And I'm one of the good ones."


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Joe Solomon's words rang over and over in my head like a broken record. My roommates had, naturally, asked what he had wanted, but I just told them that he had wanted a word about changing my behavior in his classroom and they had believed me, seeing as I hadn't been the best CoveOps student the previous semester. Spies lie, and I had been trained to lie at a young age, even to the people that I cared about. So, they believed me I made them believe me. I lied.

I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth and washed my face before settling down in my bed, listening to Alicia and Laura talking about their vacations in hushed voices. When Leah whispered my name, I pretended to already be asleep and she must have bought it, because she didn't try again. Soon, they were all asleep and I was left awake to ponder Joe Solomon's words. I could still smell his breath and feel it fanning my face.

When I knew that there was no hope of sleep, I got out my Shakespeare book and a flashlight and read under the covers until I went to go take a shower. I was too tired to bother with anything complicated, so I just threw my hair up in a messy bun and didn't bother with any makeup since I hadn't had acne since I was fourteen.

I left before anyone else for breakfast and halfheartedly dug into my French toast. Could it be true? Was Rider really a bad guy? He couldn't be…..I had grown up with him…I had kissed him and laughed with him…

"You okay?" Leah asked me as she sat beside me on the bench.

I shrugged. "Tired. I always have trouble sleeping the first day back from break."

She nodded and smiled. "I know what you mean. So what do you think Solomon will have us do in class?"

Laura answered before I could, taking a seat with Alicia. "Something exciting, I hope."

Alicia nodded vigorously, "Maybe he'll take us out into the real world more."

I listened to them debate for a while before it was time to head to class.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Leah asked as we shouldered our bags. "You hardly touched your food."

"Too tired," I responded. "I'll probably scarf down lunch."

She gave me a small smile and we headed for CoveOps.

"Good morning, ladies," Mr. Solomon said, entering the room in his usual white shirt, his hair slightly damp, much like the first day.

"Good morning," we all replied. I said it monotonously.

I think he noticed. His eyes flashed to me for a brief second before he said, "The real world is waiting out there for you today, ladies. You have the rest of the day off from classes. We are going to get some practice."

"_Excellent_," Laura said under her breath.

For once, I didn't want to. I wanted to go through my classes like normal. The last thing that I wanted to do was go out on a CoveOps mission. I'd been doing those my whole life and, apparently, they hadn't done any good. Apparently, I was still naïve and stupid.

_And I'm one of the good ones._ So, Rider was bad? I just couldn't see it. I knew him…or, rather, I _had_ known him when we had grown up together. But that was the same thing, right? He was a good guy; he'd always been a good guy.

"So go get changed and meet me in the front lawn in twenty minutes," Mr. Solomon said and everyone stood to gather their stuff. "Ms. Hunter, a word, please."

I hung back and when the last person had exited the room, he walked closer to me and asked, "Are you okay?"

I shrugged. "Yeah; fine."

He sighed and reached out to touch my arm, causing me to look at him. His green eyes held something…concern, maybe? No, it couldn't be concern. Rider was the only one that had ever showed concern for me. "Look, I'm sorry; I really am. I know what it's like to think that you can trust someone and then get hurt and I just don't want that to happen to you."

"Learning by experience is one of the best ways to learn," I said quietly, looking away. "Just let me figure it out on my own."

"I care about you, Katelyn, and I don't want to see you get hurt," he said.

I looked back up at him. "Why? Why am I so special?"

He backed away from me slowly and then leaned against his desk. He reached up to ruffle his blond hair and he sighed. "There are things that you don't understand yet, Katelyn. You're smart, and you're strong, but you're still young and you won't understand some things for a while."

"What kind of things?" One of the things that I hated the most was not understanding something. I had a thirst for knowledge.

He smiled at me. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you. Go on, change into some different clothes. Blend in."

"That's what I do best," I replied.

Back in my room, I changed into jeans, a purple hoodie, and white Nike tennis shoes that I had discovered were great for covering a lot of ground. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and applied a little bit of makeup. My other roommates were too immersed in discussing what the mission could be that they didn't even ask me why Mr. Solomon had asked to talk to me. That was fine with me, though.

Joe Solomon was waiting for all of us outside, standing right in front of a helicopter. He flashed us all a grin and I rolled my eyes as several girls swooned. "Inside, ladies."

I clambered in and when he held out a blindfold, I took it and put it on without a single moment's hesitation.

I was ready.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

"Longest flight _ever_," Alicia groaned. She was sitting to my right, Leah to my left, and Laura on Alicia's other side.

"Agreed," Laura said. "And my blindfold is starting to itch."

I was actually quite comfortable and I even considered taking a nap.

"Did he tell you anything about where we're going?" Leah asked.

I shook my head, though I knew they couldn't see me. "He just wanted to thank me for improving my attitude in his classroom."

Alicia groaned. "How much longer?"

"Patience, Ms. Johnson."

I smirked and I knew that my roommates' mouths had fallen open. No one but me had known that Mr. Solomon was sitting so close to us. He was actually sitting directly behind me; I could smell his cologne. I was surprised that the other girls hadn't picked up on it.

"Sorry," Alicia muttered.

I bit back a laugh and Alicia elbowed me in the ribs.

"So you could tell that I was holding in a laugh but you couldn't tell that Mr. Solomon is sitting right behind us?"

I could practically feel her smirk.

"Almost there, ladies," Mr. Solomon said a few minutes later and Alicia let out a small cheer.

"_Thank you_," Laura sighed. "This blindfold is killing me."

I could feel the helicopter descending. Adrenaline began pumping through me and my mind began to prepare itself. I was ready.

"Everyone ready? Everyone awake?" Mr. Solomon asked.

"Yes, sir," we all replied.

"Blindfolds off."

I obeyed and looked out of the helicopter, immensely confused. I had expected to be tailing or avoiding being tailed. I had expected a brush pass exercise, maybe, or even just an observation test.

But no.

We were in the middle of what seemed to be a rather large forest. We had landed in what seemed like the only clearing for miles. All around us, the tallest trees that I had ever seen stretched up to the sky and they were so close together that I knew no sunlight would reach the forest floor.

"Um, Mr. Solomon?" Leah asked tentatively, running her fingers through her windswept, straightened hair.

"Yes, Leah?" he asked as he hopped out of the helicopter. I followed him and the rest of the girls followed my lead.

"Well, um…I think there's a mistake." She said, looking around at the forest. She was tugging nervously at the hem of her light purple shirt.

"Nope," Mr. Solomon said, popping the p, a grin on his face as he looked at all of us with his green eyes twinkling. "No mistake. Would you like to hear your assignment now?"

We all shrugged and I inhaled deeply. There was no way that this was going to be easy. Mr. Solomon held my gaze for a split second before looking away. "Someone has been in the forest recently. They started from this very clearing and then headed into the forest, as you are about to do. With them, they carried a small notebook containing codes crucial to the government and his it. Find it."

"That's impossible!" Alicia said, but I knew that she was generally a stubborn person and not one to give up; she probably just didn't want to get leaves in her straightened hair or dirt under her nails.

I saw that I was the only one in an outfit that seemed perfect for the situation.

"No, it's not," he said. "You're Gallagher Girls, right?"

Our pride was wounded and all of us drew ourselves up proudly.

"We can do it," Laura said.

He nodded. "Good. But not all together. Split up."

Most of the girls' faces fell. That was going to make things significantly more difficult. I, however, had been made for this sort of thing. Covertly, I glanced around at the ground and found what I wanted: a small indention in the grass; footprints leading into the forest. Perfect. None of the other girls would have spotted it, though I was sure that one would eventually.

"You have one hour to find it and get back here," he said, glancing at his watch. "Go."

I took off so fast that I knew several people were staring after me in shock. But if I knew one thing, it was criminals: pickpockets, thieves, etc. I had grown up around those types of people while my parents were away. I had learned all of this stuff. And I knew that if a thief had possession of a notebook that belonged to the government and knew that the government was after them, they would run as fast as they could for as long as they could.

I watched the ground occasionally and found signs that made me smile: slight indentions in the earth, trampled leaves, broken twigs, and the suchlike. I knew that I was on the right track.

Finally, the footprints stopped and I looked around, though I could hardly see. I had been shining a mini flashlight – which I always took with me on missions – to help with lighting, but it was growing dim. How could I have not checked the batteries before I left? I felt like such an idiot.

I turned the light off for a moment to think.

That moment was all that it took. Arms wrapped around me, making it nearly impossible to move. I threw my head back and felt it collide with something; I heard a pained grunt. I spun around, kicking my foot out to strike at my attacker. It hit nothing.

I could see nothing. Hear nothing. Feel nothing.

I caught my breath quickly and was about to turn the light back on when I realized that I had lost it in the scuffle. Damn.

A punch nailed me in the chest but I used the momentum to complete a turn and roundhouse kick. It collided with something and I heard a sound of pain as something hit the forest floor. I knelt down quickly and found the person's neck. "Who are you?" I growled angrily.

The flashlight lit up and shined right in my face. Joe Solomon knelt down beside me and the person I'd attacked, a smile on his face. "You honestly weren't expecting an attack, Ms. Hunter? Frankly, I'm disappointed."

I looked down at the masked man whom I had knocked unconscious and realized that I was disappointed in myself. I seemed to be falling out lately, but why?

"Come on." Joe Solomon gestured for me to follow him.

Defeated, I stood and followed after him.


	12. Chapter 12

"You alright?"

I sighed. "You have a knack for finding me, Mr. Solomon. I'm not sure that I like that. It makes me feel predictable."

"I wouldn't call you predictable," he replied, sitting beside me on the grass. He was wearing a navy blue shirt under a white jacket along with jeans and Nike tennis shoes. His hair was messier than normal and he wore his same, easy smile that made every girl save for me swoon.

"Yeah?" I asked, tugging at the end of my Hollister shirt. "What would you call me then?"

"Hmm…" he said in a tone that said that he was thinking. I traced a continual pattern of a triangle on my jeans and stared at my black flats, waiting. My straightened hair blew with the breeze and I could smell his cologne.

Finally, he said, "I'd call you reserved, first and foremost. Observant, intelligent, and strong. Stubborn, of course, and – perhaps – confused."

"Wow," I muttered sardonically. "You really do know how to charm a lady."

He laughed. "I've never cared much about that until recently."

"About being charming?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and finally looking over to find his green eyes already watching me. "Really? Because that first day, when you walked into the dining hall, none of the girls could stop looking at you."

"You included?" he questioned, something dancing in his eyes.

"No," I smirked. "I'm immune."

He sighed and looked away, out towards the forest. "I wonder why that is."

I shrugged. "I mean, it's not like you _want_ to charm me, right?"

He hesitated and then said, "No; of course not."

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, drawing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, resting my chin on my kneecaps.

"Sure," he replied.

"Why did you follow me?" I asked. "In the forest, I mean. I'm sure a lot of the girls went in different directions…but why follow me?"

I looked at him as he answered, "I know that this might sound bad, but I knew that you'd be the one to find it. You're different from the others."

"I've heard that before," I mumbled, looking away.

"I'm not saying that as a bad thing," he said quickly. "Don't think that. Actually, it was a compliment. Being different, especially as a spy, is a very good thing. It means that you look at things differently and have your own special skills. It means that you come from a past unlike anyone else's and that you _are_ someone else. That you don't conform. It's a _very_ good thing."

"So you just…_knew_ that it would be me?"

He shrugged and flashed me a grin that would have probably made Laura or Alicia pass out. "Yes. And, well, I saw you notice the indention in the grass."

"How?" I asked, surprised.

"Your eyes light up when you've figured something out; and you squint a little bit. Have you ever noticed?" he asked.

I shook my head, smiling. "No; I never noticed that."

"Why are you out here, Katelyn?" he asked quietly. "It's freezing."

"Not really," I shrugged, though I was kind of cold.

He shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to me. "Here, put this on and then we can talk about what drove you out here."

I looked at the jacket and then teased, "You're not gonna help me into it?" Madame Dabney had taught us all about how well-mannered gentlemen helped a lady into her jacket.

He smiled. "I didn't figure that you'd take to help very easily."

I took the jacket and shook my head. "Nope; I wouldn't." I slipped it on and felt instantly warmer. It was soft inside and it smelled just like him.

"So," he said. "Start talking."

"I'd rather not," I said quietly, staring out at the snow covered grounds. The only sound was the wind whistling through the trees and mine and Mr. Solomon's steady breathing. I watched as my breath became visible as a white mist in the air.

"You don't like to open up much, do you?"

I shook my head. "It's never really been my thing."

"Why not?"

I sighed. "Mom and Dad always told me that showing any kind of emotion – opening and kind of emotional door – was dangerous."

"Your Mom and Dad work for the agency?" he asked.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah; you could say that."

"What's that mean?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's complicated," I replied, watching as the sun sank lower in the pink sky. "Were your parents in the agency?"

"It's complicated."

I was intrigued now. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

I nodded. "You first."

He sighed. "My mom was an agent. My dad…he pretended to be an agent too. He really worked for this organization…anyway, he was a traitor. He died."

"I'm sorry," I replied softly. I couldn't even imagine.

He shook his head. "It's okay. Your turn."

"Well," I said slowly, cautiously. "They work for the CIA, but they're, like, in charge of themselves. They gather intelligence about some organization and when I was little, they'd move all around the world with me. Rider's parents work with them too, that's how we know each other. Neither of our parents ever wanted us; we just happened."

I felt like an idiot, admitting all of that to him. I blushed and looked at my knees.

"And your parents are the ones that trained you?" he asked. "Before this, I mean."

I nodded. "They were good teachers."

"But?"

I sighed. "But nothing. It doesn't matter."

"I think it does."

"Why do you care?" I snapped, suddenly angry.

His expression remained calm, his eyes caring. "I care about you," he told me softly. "I want to know everything. I want to know what makes you so withdrawn and reserved. I want to know what food you like to eat when you're sick and what your favorite color is. I want to know about you."

I stared at him, surprised. "Why? I'm nothing special."

He gave me a sad smile. "That's a lie. And I can't believe that you would ever fall for it."

No one had ever told me that I was special before. Sure, Leah, Laura, and Alicia had told me that I was beautiful and smart, but never unique and special. I felt a little choked up. "Thank you."

"You don't hear that enough, do you?" he asked quietly and I shook my head. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Before I start, I just wanted to say a special thank you to all of you that have been reading and reviewing my story thus far. Reviews always make me want to keep writing more; they're like my energy drink! A special thank you to weemeex, Aly Goode, and xXJustSomeRandomKidXx, who have all been very encouraging and helpful for this story. Thank you!**

13.

"Mr. Solomon, can we talk?" I asked quietly, pulling at the strap of my bag.

He looked up from his desk and grinned at me. "Sure. What's on your mind, Katelyn?"

"I want to know…" I sighed and sat on the corner of his desk. "I want to know how you know Rider."

He sighed and the smile fell from his face. He looked away from me, standing up and strolling to a corner of the room, pretending to be interested in the trash bin. "What you have to understand about that, Katelyn, is that it is _highly_ classified."

"Most things are in our world," I replied, shrugging. "Give me as much as you can. Please."

He turned back around and fiddled with the cuff of his white shirt for a moment. "Fine. But that's not much, okay? Don't get frustrated."

"Wait," I said. "Is this going to leave more questions than answers?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. You're smart, Katelyn." He took a couple of steps neared and leaned against the table that was closest to the desk. "You might figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me intently, as if he were trying to telepathically send me the answer. I was getting a signal, but it had less to do with Rider and more to do with the fact that I had never noticed that his eyes had tiny flecks of gold in them. It was just barely there; you could hardly see it unless you were looking closely. And I was; I was unable to look away.

"Rider Nolan's father, Derek, is an old…associate of mine."

"Did you two train together when you were younger or something?" I asked, finally able to look away from his eyes. I instinctively reached up to brush my bangs back, a habit of mine that I had been trying to break.

"You could say that," he responded. "Katelyn, I made a huge mistake when I was sixteen. It's complicated…"

"We all make mistakes," I shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"This one was," he said softly, looking down at his shoes. "This one was huge."

"What was it?" I asked, intrigued.

"I…I joined an organization that I shouldn't have joined. I'm afraid I can't tell you more than that, Katelyn, but I can tell you that I'm out of it now. I'm a good guy now. But Rider's father…I don't think he ever stopped."

"So what's Rider have to do with all of this?" I asked.

"Ever heard the saying, 'like father, like son'?" he asked, looking at me again.

I shook my head vigorously. "Rider wouldn't get involved in something like that just because his father told him to."

"Really?" he asked skeptically, leaning closer so that I could smell the spearmint on his breath. "Remember the environment you were raised in, Katelyn? Weren't you taught to obey your parents? Weren't you punished when you didn't? Was Rider not raised in the same environment? Hmm?"

I shook my head. "Rider has always hated his dad. Maybe that's why Rider is here now; maybe he left his dad because he didn't want to join."

"Maybe," Joe murmured, but I could tell that he wasn't convinced. "You should move on to your next class, Katelyn. Mr. Smith will be concerned if you're late; you're his favorite pupil."

I shook my head slowly back and forth. "I don't feel like going right now."

"Sometimes," he said as he took another step towards me. "Spies do things that they don't want to do; they do what they have to do. This is one of those times, Katelyn. You have to go to class and you have to pretend that nothing is wrong."

"I'm a good pretender," I said, looking down at my flats and then back up at him. "In fact, sometimes I wonder if I'm too good at it."

He nodded. "Sometimes I wonder that about myself."

"You?" I asked, surprised. "But…but you're Joe Solomon. You're a killer spy and a rocking' teacher. Seriously. Buckingham never taught us even half of what you have and frankly, I'm not sure she knows half of what you've taught us. You're amazing and you don't even have to try. You're good for this school. You're good for…" But I trailed off, blushing and looking back down at my shoes. At the floor. At anything except for him.

"Good for what?" he asked gently.

"Never mind," I said quickly, running a nervous hand through my straightened hair.

"You have to tell me now," he said and I saw a grin on his face when I looked up at him. His expression softened, "I'm immensely curious now and it would be cruel to leave me in the dark."

"Would it?" I asked, stalling the inevitable.

"Yes."

"Well," I said. "You were right; I better be getting to Mr. Smith's. I think he was planning to go over currencies in Russia and so I-"

The bell rang and cut me off. I sighed. Great, I was late for Mr. Smith's class. Mr. Solomon leaned forward. "I'll write you a note if you'll tell me what you were going to say."

_Just say it_, I told myself. _Just do it_.

I inhaled. "Good for…me."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think so?"

I blushed even deeper. "Yes; I really do. You've broken through my stubborn little barrier that I've put up and you've taught me a lot and you make me feel…" I paused for a moment to try not to blush. "Special. No one's ever done that before. No one's ever cared the way you do and I guess that I just need that right now."

"I do care about you," he said softly as he leaned even closer. "So very much."

He continued to lean in and I knew where it was headed. In my defense – in case you're planning on calling me a slut or a stupid girl – I knew that it was wrong. I knew that teachers and students shouldn't have anything going on. I knew that we could get into a lot of trouble. I knew that it was dangerous for me to open an emotional door.

But I did.

When Joe Solomon was mere centimeters away, I put my hand behind his neck and pulled him the rest of the way to me, capturing his lips in a kiss that I had subconsciously wanted for so long.

And he kissed me back.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

The kiss was…exactly how a kiss should be. It was sweet and gentle, and he moved a hand up to touch my cheek. It was slow and steady, and he moved even closer to me, to where he was right in front of the desk and I was sitting on the desk, my legs straddling him. I wound my arms around his neck and he moved his other hand to my hip and the one that had been touching my cheek to tangle in my hair.

He pulled away for one split second so that we could breathe, and then his lips were on mine again, gently. It was like he was scared that if he held me too tight or kissed me too hard, I would break. And, for some reason, I loved feeling breakable. I liked that he thought that I was precious enough that I needed to be handled with care. My parents would have killed me if they'd heard me say that, but I didn't care. It was just me and Joe in the CoveOps classroom. Just us two.

I think I could go on and on about what an amazing kisser he was and how soft his lips were or how gently he held me, but I won't. Because, frankly, I'm not sure that I would be able to find words that would do it justice. I can't even describe how I was feeling. I mean, I felt like I could just jump off of a cliff and I felt warm and fuzzy on the inside, but that's still not a good enough description.

The kiss – the whole thing – lasted about a minute. Maybe you think that that's short, maybe you think it's a long time – I don't care. That's how long it lasted. He pulled away from me but stayed close, one of his hands staying tangled in my hair and the other moving up to brush my bangs away from my eye. He was breathing heavily, as was I, and his green eyes were looking so deeply into mine that I wondered if he could see right into my soul.

"Wow," he finally breathed after about twenty seconds.

"Exactly what I was thinking," I said softly, still feeling a little lightheaded from the kiss.

He sighed and took a step back, taking his hands away. I wanted him closer to me again. I wanted him to kiss me again. No, I wasn't in love with him, but there was _definitely_ something there. And I wanted to find out what it was.

"What are you thinking?" he asked me quietly, still staring into my eyes.

"I'm not thinking, actually," I replied. "I'm trying but…my brain is a little…muddled."

The tiniest of smirks appeared on his face. "I thought you were immune."

"So did I," I replied, smiling.

He took a tiny step closer. "I don't think that we should have…" he sighed. "I'm sorry. But I wanted to and I just…lost all control."

"I pulled you in," I said. "I'm just as guilty as you are. I _wanted_ you to kiss me."

He smiled. "Yes, you made that clear."

I blushed and ran a hand through my hair, smoothing it back into place where Joe had made it stick out at an odd angle. "Yeah, well…"

"I've never felt like this about anyone before," he admitted, coming closer still and capturing my hands with his. "It's strange." He began to rub the back of my hands with his thumbs. "I've always been scared that my job could put people in danger and I'm scared for you, too, but…I want you too much to care. You're smart and strong and you can take care of yourself. I guess that's what I've always needed. Someone like you."

"Someone like me," I repeated quietly. "And you don't care that you could get fired for this?"

He shook his head. "No. And, see, the thing about us being spies is: we'll be good at keeping this a secret."

"This?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "What is _this_ exactly?"

"Hmm…" he said thoughtfully as he brought one of my hands up and kissed my knuckles. "I don't want to push you into anything you don't want. Just tell me what we are and I'll take it. Dating, just friends, acquaintances."

"Dating?" I asked. "You're…you're sure you're okay with that?"

"I don't really want to be friends with benefits, if you know what I mean," he said. "I care about you too much to do that."

"And you would date _me_?" I asked. Joe Solomon, the hottest man in the world, wanted to date me. Even with all of the secrets he knew I was keeping and even with it being dangerous.

"Yes," he replied simply. "I do. And I wish you would see yourself more clearly. You are definitely as worthy to date as I am. More, actually."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't think that guys as good looking as you are supposed to be humble."

He shrugged. "I'm the best of both worlds."

"There's that cockiness," I smirked. "I knew it was there somewhere."

He leaned close and kissed my forehead, causing me to close my eyes and breathe out at his touch. He pulled away and looked into my eyes again. "Is this official?"

"Are you officially asking?" I asked, feeling butterflies go wild in my stomach.

"I suppose so," he answered, looking like he was thinking very carefully. "I've never asked anyone out before."

"Really?"

He laughed. "You sound shocked."

"That's because I am."

"Spies aren't supposed to show their emotions," he pretended to scold.

"Sorry," I replied with a smirk. "My CoveOps teacher is terrible."

He sighed. "So like a girl, to pass the blame."

I laughed. "So, _is_ this official?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. How 'bout we have our first date tomorrow night? Come down to my office for dinner."

"You cook?"

He nodded. "I had to go undercover as a chef-in-training for six months once. I was offered a job as a chef for a bistro in France."

"Well color me impressed," I said. "Or maybe blue with purple stripes."

He laughed. "When did we become all lovey-dovey and teasing?"

"After we kissed," I decided, slipping off of the desk and kissing him quickly in the process. "Now, I need a note for Mr. Smith's class, please."

He raised an eyebrow, teasing. "You're being bossy already."

"I've always been bossy."

"What if I told you I've never been good at following orders?" he asked as he reached for a pen.

I pretended to consider it. "I guess I could handle that."

He finished his note quickly and handed it to me. "See you in the morning, I guess." Then, he pulled me in for a quick kiss. "And you might want to get some ice for your lips; they look a little red."


	15. Chapter 15

15.

I managed to sneak into the kitchen and grab some ice while Chef Louis was busy preparing for lunch. I even snuck an apple and happily munched it on my way to class, holding the ice to my lips between bites. Right outside Mr. Smith's classroom, I checked my reflection in a mirror that Laura had basically forced me to carry at all times. She said that every girl needed a mirror and the only reason that I had agreed to do it was because I figured I could use it to help me lose a tail or even use it as a weapon.

My lips were no longer swollen or red and I smiled as I put the mirror up, threw the apple core out of a nearby window, and then walked into class. Mr. Smith was speaking in Russian and I could tell that several girls were having difficulty with it. After all, we hadn't started learning Russian until ninth grade. I, however, had learned Russian when I was six, and I spoke Russian as I said, "Sorry I'm late, Mr. Smith. Mr. Solomon kept me behind to lecture me on the mistakes I made last mission." I did my best to make my voice sound annoyed and I was one hundred percent sure that I had succeeded.

"Note?" Mr. Smith asked, also in Russian.

I approached his desk and handed it to him. He read it over and smiled at me. "Very well. Take a seat."

I took my usual seat beside Leah and ignored her curious look. I paid close attention to Mr. Smith's lecture – or, rather, pretended to. Really, I was just replaying the kiss over and over in my mind. How had that happened? How had I not felt anything for him before now? It seemed so unreal and to be honest, I felt excited at the prospect of a secret relationship.

And then, I remembered Rider and my heart sank. I remembered kissing him in the snow and in my bedroom late at night. I remembered all of the things we'd been through together and I suddenly felt like the world's biggest slut, though only a moment before I had been so happy. How could I have betrayed Rider so easily? How had I just forgotten about him completely?

_I can't do this_. I took a really deep breath and focused in on Mr. Smith's lecture. _Yes, I can. I just have to focus on the lecture and nothing else. I'll think about all of this later._

True to my word, I focused completely on the lecture, even though I already knew most of what he was talking about. The bell rang and we all headed to our next class, Culture and Assimilation. Leah fell into step beside me easily, her straightened hair swinging behind her. "You okay?"

"Yep," I said a little too quickly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her raise her eyebrows and I knew that she didn't believe me.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," I answered, my thoughts turning to Rider. How could I have done that to him? I mean, it's not like he had asked me to be his girlfriend or anything. But Joe had… So did that mean that I hadn't done anything wrong? Was I technically Joe's girlfriend now? So did that mean that I wasn't wrong? Yes, I decided. It did.

I smiled at my new revelation.

"Bipolar much?" Leah asked, but she was smiling.

I shrugged. "I'm fine."

She sighed, "Well, I know as well as anyone that no one can make you do anything that you don't want to, so I'm going to drop it. For now."

I smiled at her. "Thanks so much. I wonder if we'll be having tea today…"

Class went quickly and it was finally time for lunch. I was sitting at the table when Gina, a small girl with stringy brown hair, came to the table and held out a postcard to me. "For you."

Confused, I took it and looked it over. It was of St. Louis and written on it, in Rider's sloppy handwriting, were the words: _I'll miss you. Be safe._

"Who's that from?" Leah asked but I stood and grabbed her arm, pulling her after me. She came along without a complaint, probably knowing that I was about to admit why I was being so bipolar.

I led her to one of the many secret passageways that I knew and sat down, leaning against the stone wall. She sat down opposite me and waited. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and secured it with a rubber band from my bag. Finally, I launched into my story, everything from being with Rider during Christmas to my kiss with Mr. Solomon earlier that day. She listened intently, never interrupting. Finally, I was done and was breathing rather unsteadily, since I had barely taken a good breath throughout my tale.

She ran her fingers through her own hair and sighed, looking at me. "You're in a bit of a pickle, my dear."

I laughed. Of course she would say something like that. "I don't know what to do, Leah."

"Who do you have stronger feelings for?" she asked. "And I'm not talking about friendship. I get that Rider was your best friend, and that's why I sort of think that Mr. Solomon is the right choice."

"Explain," I said, feeling thoroughly confused.

She nodded. "Well, Rider has been your best friend for so long that maybe it was just familiarity masquerading as attraction. Does that make sense?"

I nodded, and it was a good explanation, but… "But what if it wasn't?"

"Then we're back to: who do you have stronger feelings for?"

I sighed. "I don't know. Kissing Mr. Solomon felt…right."

"Then it's him," she shrugged, smiling. "But, if you're still not sure, just go along with it and see what happens. You'll know eventually."

I nodded. "Thanks, Leah."

"Anytime," she said. "And I don't recommend telling anyone else about this."

"Wouldn't dare," I agreed.

She nodded. "And you know I won't tell. Need me to cover for you tomorrow night? We cans ay we're going to the library together and I'll do my homework there while you're with him."

I smiled and went to hug her. "You're the best friend anyone could have."

"I know!" she said in a mock gloating voice. And then her voice was serious. "Just be careful and take it slow, okay? This could be very dangerous."

"I know."

She pulled back and gave me a stern look. "Not physically, Kay. Emotionally."

That's what my parents had always warned me about. Opening up emotionally. "I know," I whispered. They'd always told me that if I ever opened up to someone emotionally, they would take all of me and leave me empty and broken. I guess I was about to find out.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

"Library," Leah and I said together, our cover story.

Alicia and Laura were too busy studying for the CoveOps mission that Mr. Solomon had hinted would happen next week to even try to question it. Leah and I headed out of the room and at the library, she flashed me a smile. "Have fun. I want to hear about it later."

I nodded in agreement and we parted ways. The walk to the CoveOps classroom took almost no time at all and soon, I was knocking on the door to an office I'd never seen the inside of before. I had no idea what to expect, and maybe that's why when Joe Solomon opened the door, my mouth fell open. He wore khakis and a purple button down shirt and his blond hair was messy in all the right places. His green eyes seemed to glow. "Good evening, Ms. Hunter."

"Don't you think you should call me Katelyn?" I asked when I regained my composure. "I mean, since we're….dating." I seemed to struggle with the word because I still wasn't sure it was accurate and I didn't think I looked good enough. My hair was straightened and my makeup was well done, but I only wore jeans and a simple blue blouse. I felt severely ordinary – which, when you're a spy is a good thing; but when you're on a date with _the_ Joe Solomon, it's kind of a _very_ bad thing.

"Sure," he flashed me a grin that seemed to make my insides melt and then he moved aside. "Come in."

I did and immediately, my subconscious took in everything that I saw. There was a bedroom type area that was hidden behind a barely cracked door and there was a kitchen unit off to the side of a living room area. It was all decorated quite plainly. From the kitchen, I could smell something delicious and I smiled.

Suddenly, Joe's arms wrapped around me and for the first time, I could smell his cologne. It made my head spin, but in a totally good way. "Close your eyes," he whispered, his mouth right next to my ear. I did as he'd told me. "How many blankets are in the room?"

"No fair," I said with a smile. "I thought I was coming down here for a date, not for a CoveOps pop quiz."

He exhaled a half laugh. "More than anything, I want you to be prepared for what's out there. Because I care."

"Tell you what," I negotiated. "I'll answer all of your little pop quiz questions if you'll tell me what our mission is going to be next week."

He seemed to contemplate it for a moment and then he kissed my temple. "Alright. You're going to be losing tails."

"Losing tails," I scoffed.

His mouth was right next to my ear again as he whispered, "_Lots_ of tails."

"What kind of tails?"

"_My_ kind of tails," he said. "But don't worry; you have a whole city to cover. The drawback is that you won't have all day. And it's a _big_ city."

I sighed. "Well, this should be fun."

"Mmm," he replied as he kissed my cheek. "How many blankets?"

"Four."

"How many magazines?"

"None. Trick question."

"Oh, really?" he asked. "Are you sure?"

I nodded confidently. "Yes. That thing from Bass Pro Shops isn't a magazine; it's a catalog."

He laughed. "Very good. Open your eyes."

I did and he moved towards the kitchen. "Hope you don't mind a light supper. I just fixed French toast. But, don't worry; it's special French toast."

I laughed. "Oh, yeah?"

He nodded. "I made special maple syrup, too."

"Yum."

Turns out, his French toast really was special. And, the maple syrup was so sweet that I just wanted to grab a spoon and eat it out of the container. Finally, when we were both full, I offered to help him clean up.

"I don't think that's how it's supposed to work," he laughed as he carried our plated towards the sink.

"Sure it is," I said. "Besides, I love doing dishes."

He rolled his eyes but didn't object as I grabbed a dish towel to help him. We talked about simple things – classes and the suchlike – as we did the dishes and by the time we were done, we had both laughed and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

"You should probably be getting back," he said, but I had the distinct impression that he didn't want me to go. He was watching me closely, as if silently daring me to ask to stay.

I smiled. "Yeah, probably. But, I won't."

He smirked and gestured to the couch in his living room. "Shall we sit, then?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

We sat and talked for a little while longer and he even gave me some tips for the mission coming up. I made a mental note to study a New York City map and also to go over how to spot tails, although I was pretty confident I would succeed.

Finally, he bade me goodnight with a simple kiss, though I wanted way more and I had a feeling that he did, too. Nonetheless, my Culture training kicked in and I thanked him for a wonderful night before heading back towards the library.

Leah was waiting and as we went to the dining hall for supper, I told her everything. "That's so sweet," she said. "He cooked for you."

I nodded and said, "I'm really starting to feel right about this."

"Good," she beamed and we entered the hall and took seats beside Laura and Alicia.

I had just finished my excuse that I wasn't hungry because I was nervous for the CoveOps mission – I hadn't even told Leah that I knew about it – when a seventh grader approached me. "This is for you."

"Thanks." The envelope was plain and had my name on the front in handwriting that looked like my mother's, but a little different. Inside, was a small note from Rider.

_Roseville. Ten o' clock. Tonight. Gazebo. _

_-R_

I groaned.

"What?" Leah asked form beside me. Everyone else was too absorbed in conversation. I handed her the note and she read it over before looking at me, her mouth slightly open, shocked. "Are you going to go?"

Was I? "Yes," I answered. "I'm going to go."


	17. Chapter 17

17.

I told all of my roommates the truth this time – that I was going to meet Rider. Alicia and Laura squealed happily but I left the table before they could say much of anything. Leah gave me a 'good luck' look and I gave her a grateful smile. I went up to our room and began to change clothes because it was still cold outside – considering that it was only late January – and I had a two mile walk ahead of me. Or run, I suppose. I pulled on black yoga pants that totally showed off my long, toned legs, and a T-shirt. I grabbed a jacket after I put on my Nike Shox and then I pulled my hair up into a quick messy bun. I know that most Gallagher Girls consider Cammie Morgan – the headmistress' daughter – to be the knowledgeable one on secret passageways, but I was pretty confident that I knew far more than her. After all, I had once spent an entire year living in a castle with so many secret passageways to be discovered that it had taken me six months to find them.

I made it out of the grounds no problem and began to run towards Roseville, seeing that I would be late if I didn't at least run half of the way. I tied my jacket around my waist so that I wouldn't sweat and I got into a comfortable rhythm, the distance melting away beneath my feet. Running made me feel good. It made me feel free.

I didn't exactly have a good idea as to what Rider wanted. Was there some sort of emergency? Or did he just want to see me? My stomach churned at the thought. Would he be able to see right through me – to the relationship that I had with Joe? Or could I fake it well enough so that he'd never know? Could I tell him that Christmas break had just been a fling? That we were both lonely?

And then, I was approaching the town and I slowed to a walk, letting my heartbeat return to normal and feeling my body relax. Seeing that I was a few minutes early, I took the long way to the gazebo, watching the townspeople flutter about. There seemed to be some sort of celebration going on, because there were a lot of people around. I made it to the gazebo and saw one person standing inside, wearing a white polo and jeans, with a black jacket over one arm. His curly blond hair was starting to get a little unruly, though it still looked neatly trimmed. His blue eyes found mine and he smiled. "Hey, Katelyn."

I didn't realize that he'd spoken in Arabic until I realized that I had spoken back in Arabic. "Hi, Rider. What's going on?"

"You thought that something had to be wrong for me to send that note?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and speaking in Portuguese this time.

I replied in Portuguese. This had once been a language game of sorts for us. One of us would start a conversation in a language and the other had to copy the language for as long as the originator used it. I guess it was still a habit. "I didn't know what to think. Why are you here, Rider?"

He shrugged and looked out at the townspeople for a moment. They were walking and talking and laughing with friends and family. They had no idea that the two people in the gazebo weren't just normal teenagers enjoying the celebratory (for whatever reason) night. They didn't know that Rider and I had genius-level IQs or that we could both speak over fifteen languages. They had no clue that we could kill any one of them with our bare hands. To them, we were normal. They didn't know us; they didn't know what we had been trained to do. What we had become because of our training. Because you can't just take all that knowledge back, though sometimes, I wished that I could.

When he finally did speak, it was in French. "I know that you're thinking exactly what I'm thinking right now."

"What brought this on?" I asked, also in French. Rider had always been the most excited about our training of the two of us. He'd never once said that he regretted it. But now…

"I'm not sure, actually." He spoke Italian as he turned around and then spoke Farsi, "I want to be normal."

That was a vain wish and he knew it. And, as his friend, I couldn't pretend that he should hope for that. "You know that won't happen, Rider." I spoke English, but he didn't call me out for it. "We are what we are; it can't be changed. Everything we went through…all of that training…it can't be reversed. It's part of who we are. And even if you…left…you would always be looking over your shoulder, searching for a tail or be able to crack codes in your head. It's in our genetic makeup, Rider."

He nodded slowly and spoke English, though his accent reminded me of Swahili, which had been the first language that we had learned. Sometimes, that accent would come out when we were distressed or upset. "I know that. But that doesn't mean that I have to like it, right?"

I shook my head. "No; you don't."

He took a step closer to me and said, "Would you run with me if I asked you to?"

"No," I replied honestly.

He looked hurt.

"Rider," I sighed. "It's no use running. Your problems are going to follow you."

"I'm in this really deep, Katelyn," he said urgently, his eyes pleading. "You have no idea what I had to do to even get away long enough to come find you…"

"Deep in what?" I asked.

"I think that perhaps I can answer that," said a different voice and Rider stared over my shoulder in shock. I turned around and saw Joe Solomon strolling into the gazebo, looking like he wanted to kill Rider. And, shockingly enough, Rider's face was filled with equal hatred.

And I was all that stood between them.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

I had no idea what I should do, quite honestly. I mean, on one hand, I felt a need to protect my best friend. You can call me a lot of things that would be valid, but disloyal is _not_ one of them. I knew that, were the roles reversed, Rider wouldn't hesitate to protect me. Then again, Rider knew all of my secrets and I didn't know even half of his, I was figuring out.

I also felt a need to go to Mr. Solomon's side, though. Call me naïve if you wish, but I had a feeling that he was there to protect me. He wanted me safe. From Rider. Which meant that Rider was a threat that I couldn't see because I was too blinded by our friendship.

"What's going on?" I asked, looking at Mr. Solomon. "How did you know I was here?"

Mr. Solomon didn't take his eyes away from Rider. "I saw you get that note and I saw your reaction, as well as your roommates'. You left in kind of a hurry, so I followed."

"Why?" I asked, looking between Mr. Solomon and Rider. Mr. Solomon's expression had changed to one of calm, though he was still staring Rider down. Rider, however, looked outraged and a little…inquisitive. The looks were so contradictory that I couldn't believe that they were on his face at one time.

"I was concerned," he said.

"I wouldn't hurt her," Rider snapped. "You know that."

"No," Mr. Solomon said. "I don't. All I know was that your father was a very prominent member of the Circle."

"Like father, like son?" Rider sneered. "Really?"

"Seems pretty accurate," Mr. Solomon said and I realized that at the moment, I saw him more as my teacher than as Joe – the guy that I was technically dating. "Your father was always very good at hiding his emotions and putting on false ones. A skill that, I think, he passed on to his son."

Rider's inquisitive look was gone. It was pure rage now. "I'm nothing like him!"

Outside the gazebo, the celebration went on. Some type of classical music that I'd never heard before was playing on speakers and I could hear people chattering and laughing with one another. A couple that passed was talking about new shutters for their windows and a group of teenage boys were talking about…me. Well, technically, they didn't know my name, so they were talking about "that hot chick in the gazebo" and asking amongst themselves to see if they had a shot.

They didn't.

Not only because I technically had a boyfriend, but because involving civilians was dangerous. Civilians were always a risk, and it was dangerous for spy to get involved. It had happened too many times before.

A group of kids came running by, giggling and throwing snowballs at each other. Life went on outside the gazebo – seconds continued to tick by – but it felt as if, inside the gazebo, time was standing still. It was like the world kept spinning and the gazebo stayed in one place, rooted. It was strange.

"Then why did you join the Circle, Rider?" Mr. Solomon asked, stepping closer slowly, as if Rider was a wild animal and he needed to be cautious. Technically, he did need to be cautious. Rider was a master of at least six different forms of martial arts. Though, when I thought about it, Mr. Solomon probably knew just as many. I suddenly felt frozen between them and I wondered if I should stay in the line of potential fire or if I should move and just watch, sort of like I was already doing.

Rider's expression changed from total outrage to pain so fast that it was like the rage had never been there. Suddenly, Rider looked…vulnerable. "I don't know," he said softly, his blue eyes bright. "I just…I didn't know then. I didn't know how dangerous it was. I didn't really know what they did…"

"And now you do," Mr. Solomon said, taking another step, his black shoes making no noise on the wood. "So _get out_."

Rider was giving him a pleading look. "You can't just hand in a retirement slip. You should know."

"_I_ walked away," Mr. Solomon took yet another step. "Once I found out what was going on, I got out. You can, too."

Rider shook his head. "You don't understand. I _like_ being in the Circle, but…"

"But what?" Now, Mr. Solomon froze.

"They want her," Rider said, nodding his head at me. "I'm supposed to grab her…tonight. I'm supposed to bring her in."

Mr. Solomon's hand gripped my wrist so suddenly that I missed it because I blinked. He pulled me into his body and then threw his arm around me and pushed me back so that I was behind him. "You won't take her, Rider. Not while I'm around."

Realization dawned on Rider's face like it had used to do when he'd been struggling with a certain kick and then he finally understood what he was doing wrong. He looked angry. "You're _with_ him?"

"Rider," I said softly, just that one word, with no intent to make a sentence out of it. I thought that maybe he was in a trance; that maybe I could snap him out of it.

He shook his head wildly. "I can't even believe this! You _kissed _me, Katelyn!" The way he said it felt like a knife right in my heart. I _had_ kissed him.

"You lied to me," I whispered softly.

He shook his head. "No, Kay. I _kept things_ from you. I never lied."

"Why do they want me?" I asked and Mr. Solomon – Joe – seemed just as eager for that answer.

"They know about your parents," he said. "They know about…what we are. About our training. We want you to join."

"No."

"We aren't exactly giving you a choice," he said and when he looked at me, I saw only determination.

"You're part of them," I said when I heard his words. "Did you ever care about me, Rider?"

"Yes," he said honestly and he straightened up, standing tall. "But turns out, you don't care for me the way I care for you. I was going to give you a warning; maybe even run away with you. But now, I see that's not going to happen. I'm turning you in, Katelyn."

"No, you're not." My voice wasn't the only one that spoke. Mr. Solomon was glaring at Rider, his eyes on fire. And then, I realized something…

It was okay for me to be myself. I could be everything that I'd been trained to be without becoming a total monster like Rider.

"Do you trust me?" I whispered to Joe.

He looked at me, confused for a moment. "Yes."

"Then take my hand."

By the time Rider realized what I was doing, Joe and I were already gone.


	19. Chapter 19

19.

"Come on," I muttered as I pulled Mr. Solomon along behind me. He followed, though I could sense his apprehension. He didn't like that he wasn't in control. Typical guy. Typical spy guy.

"Where are we-" he seemed to understand that it wasn't a valid question. "How has Rider not found us yet?"

"We're pavement artists," I said. "He's looking. But it'll take a while. Put on this hat." I threw him a hat that I had picked out of someone's bag as they passed by. For myself, I grabbed a jacket from a shopping bag and replaced it with my own jacket. I let my hair down and Mr. Solomon followed dutifully behind me as we walked quickly through the crowd of people.

"I don't understand," he began and I interrupted him before he could finish that sentence. "You're not supposed to," I told him.

"Katelyn…"

"Who is this organization, Joe?" I asked as I caught a glimpse of Rider in the reflection of someone's mug. I pulled Joe and I to safety and spotted Rider as he ran past frantically. He was losing his touch. But why? He had always been cautious, always seen through things…

And then I realized what it was. Rider was thrown off because of me. Because I was with Joe. He never would have expected that from me and now he was questioning himself, wondering if there were signs. But there weren't. He wouldn't be able t come up with anything.

"They've been enemies of the Gallagher Academy for as long as it's been a school," he said as we rushed down an alley. "They hated Gilly because she killed one of their members."

"So, they're older than Gallagher?"

"Yes."

"What's their purpose?" I asked as I pulled us back out onto the crowded streets. I spotted Rider going the wrong way and smiled. "Come on; we're heading back to the school. Run."

He kept pace with me and explained, "There's never really a solid purpose all of the time. Goals come up now and then…"

"When did you join?"

"I was sixteen."

"When did you walk away?"

"Not too many years ago," he said. "I've been fighting against them ever since."

"Does anyone know?"

He shook his head. "No one knows I was a member, no."

We ran in silence until Joe asked, "What did Rider mean back there?"

"Which part?" I asked as I pulled my hair into a ponytail again as we ran. There were a lot of things that he could have been asking.

"When he said, verbatim, _They know about what we are. Our training._ Is he talking about your parents training you before school?"

I tried to figure out how best to tell him. It was going to be difficult, that much I knew. After all, I had guarded myself so well before… But Joe was different. He made me feel…safe. And I liked it. And I didn't want to lose it. "What you have to understand about that," I said as I saw that we were getting close to the entrance to the school. "Is that you're entering a very dark area of my life. An area that I've spent my whole life building barriers around to keep them out of it."

He glanced at me. "What? You mean, it's bad?"

"Worse," I mumbled as we approached the guard station.

A guard with dark hair and a mouth full of bubblegum – whose name, I knew, was Clyde – waved at Mr. Solomon and let us through without a word. Joe waited until we were out of earshot – we walked so we wouldn't appear conspicuous – before he said, "Tell me."

Within the confines of my mind, I looked at the barriers around the secrets of my life. The walls that I'd built around the me that I'd been brought up to be and that separated that part from the me that I always had to pretend to be. But something in Joe's tone made me want to tell him. And then, as if he was reading my mind, he stopped and faced me, grabbing my arm so that I would do the same. I saw that his temples were sweating slightly from the run, but he didn't seem out of breath in the slightest. His bright green eyes bore into mine as he whispered, "You're safe with me, Katelyn. You don't have to pretend."

Don't pretend. I couldn't remember a time when I'd been away from home and hadn't pretended to be someone else. Myself. But could I be that? Could I trust Joe enough to tell him? I tried to look for the answer within myself, but all that my brain was doing was calculating the odds that Rider had figured out where I was now and wondering what plan he was making to get to me. I knew – especially because I knew him quite well (after all, I had been trained the same way he had) – that it would be a damn good one. And then, I took one more look at Joe's gorgeous green eyes and it hit me with more force than a kick in P&E. I knew, then, and I felt all of my barriers come tumbling down, if only for the time being. I knew that I'd build them back up eventually, but I knew that with Joe, I would no longer need them. I could truly be me.

"I know about Blackthorne," I said softly. "I'm assuming you went to school there."

He nodded, looking a little surprised. "Yeah, I did. You know the truth?"

I nodded and shivered in the breeze even though I was wearing a jacket. "Yes," I said softly, unable to look away from his eyes. "I know the truth. Because that's the kind of training that I got, too. But more. Better."

Realization hit him. "Your parents didn't train you to become a spy."

I shook my head.

"They trained you to be an-"

I finished for him. "An assassin."


	20. Chapter 20

20.

It was like after I started telling Joe everything, I couldn't quit thinking about it. Joe gave me a quick kiss good night, hugged me tightly, and told me not to tell my roommates anything and to come and find him if anything was wrong. My roommates, of course, asked me what had happened with Rider, but I just smiled and said he'd wanted to see me. When they asked for details, I made some up on the spot.

But as I laid down, memories watched over me. You see, I wasn't brought up like normal kids or even a spy kid's kind of normal. My parents work for the CIA, yes, but they're double agents. Well, not really double agents. They have a secret job as assassins that the CIA doesn't exactly know about. My parents only pretended to follow leads with the Circle. Really, what they were doing was following job opportunities.

Most parents tell their kids bedtime stories like _Little Red Riding Hood_ and _The Giving Tree_. I grew up hearing about the right technique to kill a man with a chopstick and the many ways to go unseen. Parents teach their kids things like "cows go moo" or "that's a rooster". I was expected to know those things; my parents taught me things like "you have to always appear nonchalant when tailing a potential kill" or "these bullets do more damage". Most parents ask "what does the cat say?", my parents asked, "which of the people in this diner is concealing a weapon and how could you use that weapon against them?" It can sometimes take a while for parents to teach their children proper grammar; before I was even six, I could speak seven languages. At first, I just did it to make my parents proud of me, but eventually, it just became a habit. I was used to their odd training requests like: "get that man's fingerprints without his knowledge" or "tail that man and find his weaknesses. Tell me what would be the easiest way to kill him."

So, you see, from the time I was very, very little, I looked at things from an assassin's point of view. And it never stopped. Anytime I met someone new, my mind would automatically start calculating all of the ways that I could kill them and how difficult it would be to make it look like an accident. I'm not a monster, and I knew it. It's just that part of me would always be hardwired that way. It's like when little kids learn their ABC's and grow up reciting them over and over, they get to where they'll never forget it. It's the same concept, just on a much bigger – not to mention, shadier – scale.

When I finally got to Gallagher, I thought that I would be able to change. And I had, for the most part. Instead of looking at everything from an assassin's point of view, I developed a spy's point of view as well. I made friends, though I had never told any one of them anything about my life before Gallagher. I got to where I was a little softer and friendlier. I was a different person.

But, as I laid in my comfortable bed, I wondered which one was the real me. Was I Katelyn the Assassin? Or was I Katelyn the Gallagher Girl? Or, could I be both? Was it even possible?

Because I knew that sleep was impossible, I slipped on shoes and walked out of the room on silent feet. I didn't bother changing out of my Soffe shorts and tank top since I didn't figure anyone would be seeing me anyways. My hair was still in a ponytail and I re-fixed it as I walked the corridors all alone, the only sound my even breathing. It seemed strange to see the mansion that way when usually, it was full of giggling and talking girls.

I don't know what made me head for the West Wing, but I didn't question it. Instinct had saved my life more than a dozen times and I wasn't about to start doubting it. And then I saw him – Joe – looking out the window and out at the full moon and the myriad of stars that surrounded it like a never-ending frame. He took a breath and reached up to rub the back of his neck as if he were sore. "What are you dong out of bed?"

"I couldn't sleep," I answered honestly instead of spitting out an excuse.

He nodded as if he understood, but he didn't turn around to face me. "Me either."

"I'm sorry," I said, and I was surprised to find that it was the truth. I really was.

"For what?" He was still looking at the moon and I noted that his skin looked ghostly in its light.

"Not telling you," I said, walking a little closer. "I mean, you of all people would understand."

He shook his head. "I understand why you kept it a secret. People like us…they don't exactly open up easily."

I nodded. I knew what he meant.

He reached out and put his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side and kissing the top of my head. "Are you afraid?" he asked.

I wasn't ashamed to admit, "A little bit."

"I'll protect you," he vowed, and I didn't have a single doubt. He looked down at me. "You can stay with me over the summer holiday and then next winter break…"

"Thank you," I interrupted the sentence that I knew had no end.

"I won't let you get hurt," he said softly and I saw in his green eyes that he'd watched someone that he cared about get hurt and he wouldn't let it happen to me. If I hadn't believed him before, I would have had to have believed it then.

"I believe you," I said softly and smiled.

And if I hadn't believed it _then_, I would have believed it when he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly to mine, crumbling the last of my barriers.


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey, guys; thanks for all of the awesome reviews! They make me want to keep on writing, so keep em coming! School has started for me, but I'll try to continue updating, even though it will be extremely hard with AP English going on and AP Chem and that kind of thing. I'll do my best to update as quickly as possible, though! Especially over the weekend! Happy reading!**

21.

"Today, ladies," Mr. Solomon said as he handed out comms units. "You're playing with the pros. Your tails could be any_one_, they could be any_where_. You will have until five o' clock this evening to reach the warehouse with the address I gave you _alone_. I will see you all then."

The girls began to head off and he reached me, holding out a comms unit. I reached for it, but he wouldn't let go and his green eyes bore into mine. "I'm still not sure that this is safe for you."

"I'm wearing your watch," I argued. He'd given me a watch a few days prior that had a panic button. "And I even ate your edible GPS tracker. I'll be fine."

"Be careful," he whispered and he reached out to touch my cheek for only a split second before I was gone, melted into the crowd. New York City was huge and there was so much street traffic that I knew it was every pavement artist's dream. There were tons of places that you could duck into and tons of taxis and other means of transportation to get in and out of. There were a lot of different kinds of people, but that also meant that there were more faces to memorize than was really possible. And everyone knows that spotting a tail is easier when you can see the people that don't belong. But everyone belonged in New York City.

With my special training, though, I figured that I would be fine.

An hour later, I got out of a taxi as I threw the driver a – very convincing fake – twenty dollar bill. Then, I took off speed walking. This assignment was harder than it had seemed – even for me. I groaned as I saw the woman in a beige business suit, talking animatedly on a cell phone. There was nothing too unusual about her, except for the fact that only twenty-five minutes before, she'd been wearing jeans and a t-shirt and had been pushing a baby stroller. I sighed as I realized what the problem was. I was wearing my Gallagher uniform, which was too easy to spot. But not to worry, I had a plan.

Thirty minutes later, I examined myself in the mirror of the bathroom in the mall. My hair was up in a high ponytail and I wore jeans, a tight-fitting black blouse that I would never wear if I had a choice and black boots that covered my calves and came up almost to my knees. My Gallagher uniform was stuffed in a tote bag that I had bought and I wore darker makeup than I would ever wear if I was sane – I'd paid a girl at the makeup counter to do it for me. All in all, I guess I looked…hot.

This was confirmed when two extremely hot, Mr. Solomon-type guys (but younger) sitting on a bench in front of Abercrombie & Fitch stared at me with their mouths slightly open. I'd never felt less invisible in my life, but I knew that was exactly what I needed when a tail I'd noticed earlier walked right by me and didn't notice me. I smiled to myself and headed over for the food court to buy myself some lunch, even though it was three in the afternoon.

I went to the Geno's pizza section and said, "A slice of cheese pizza and a medium Coke, please."

"Make that _two_ slices of cheese pizza and two Cokes." I spun around to see who had spoken, at first thinking that it was Mr. Solomon. But, the guy who had spoken was shorter than Mr. Solomon by about an inch, though he looked just as strong. He was younger, too – my age – and he had light, messy hair and deep blue eyes almost exactly the shade of mine. All in all, he was gorgeous. But he was smiling at me as he reached to hand the guy the money.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked curiously. I'd heard of flirting before, and I'd even done it with Mr. Solomon, but I had no clue how to flirt or discourage flirting from a normal guy.

He shrugged. "Can I not buy you lunch?"

"You don't know me."

"We can change that."

At first, I was frustrated, but then I decided that he wouldn't be a half bad cover. I shrugged. "Fine."

"So what's your name?" he asked, leaning against the counter, which was a body language sign for feeling at ease.

"Ally," I said. It was one of my seven aliases.

"Do you go to school around here?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I'm just visiting."

"How are you liking it?"

"Fine."

Our food was handed to us and we walked off. "Pick any table," he said. "I'm Caleb, by the way."

"Hi," I mumbled, which would have made Madame Dabney shriek in horror. Actually, her class had been the one that I'd been pulled from, so maybe I'd had all of Culture and proper manners that I could take for the day. I was about to sit down when Caleb pulled out my chair for me. How sweet is that? I mean, what kind of normal guy does that?

"Thanks," I said as I sat down.

He sat down across from me and reached for the parmesan cheese. "Sure. So, why are you visiting?"

"My parents," I lied smoothly as I took a bite of my pizza. "They like big cities."

"Where are you from?"

I supposed that these were normal questions, but I still wasn't all that sure that I liked them. Lying was easy for me, though, so I said, "St. Louis."

"What's it like there?"

I shrugged. I'd been there before. "Kinda boring."

He nodded. "So, what do your parents do?"

"They're doctors."

"My dad's a teacher at Julliard and my mom is a travel agent," he said.

I wondered how long I would have to keep the ruse up. A glance at my watch told me that it was three-forty-five. That meant that I had approximately twenty minutes to lose him if I hoped to get to the warehouse on time. I finished off my pizza and then looked at my watch. "Oh my goodness!" I said, standing up.

"What?" he asked, looking at me.

"I just remembered..." I lied. "I have somewhere to be." I put on my best apologetic face. "Thank you for the pizza. I'm so sorry, but…"

"It's fine," he smiled easily and I couldn't help but think that it defined his whole face. Made it light up. "It was my pleasure."

That was easy. "It was nice meeting you."

I caught a cab outside the mall and gave it an address close to the warehouse. The drive took thirty minutes and when we stopped, it was four-thirty. I paid him and then began the walk to the warehouse, which I knew would take me about twenty minutes.

When I got there and walked inside, I wrinkled my nose at the smell of stale air. "Ozzie?" I asked, using Lauren's codename. "Beauty, Fox?"

Nothing but static.

"Hello, Ms. Hunter," Mr. Solomon said as he stepped out of the shadows. He didn't look happy to see me, though. He looked…disappointed.

"I'm here," I said. "I'm _alone_."

"Not quite," he said softly, just as the guy from the mall walked out of the shadows, smirking now. I had liked his smile a whole lot better. Even his voice was deeper as he said, "Hey, there, Ally."

"My name's Katelyn," I corrected him without thinking.

"And mine's Grant," he said, still smirking.

And then I realized. "You're from Blackthorne."

**I felt like I had to include Blackthorne since after winter break of Mr. Solomon's first year is when Blackthorne comes to Gallagher. Just trying to keep it real, even if it is a fic. And someone asked how old Joe Solomon is in this since he was friends with Matthew Morgan. THIS IS A FICTION – so I'm saying that he was younger than Matthew and that he's thirty in this. **


	22. Chapter 22

22.

Let's just say, I've never been beaten before. Not when it came to being invisible. So let's put this into terms that you might understand. Let's say that you're on your high school basketball team and you're the best free throw shooter that they've ever had. Your coach loves you, your team loves you, and the people in the town know you and your skill. And then, let's say a new girl comes into town. And she shoots better than you at practice. She beats you at your own game and suddenly, everyone knows she's better. Would you be her best friend? No (unless you're really, really kindhearted).

So, I sat there on that helicopter, staring out into the dark and feeling anger. Anger at Mr. Solomon for not telling me that Blackthorne would be there. Anger at Grant the Blackthorne Guy that had tricked me. And anger at myself for letting myself be tricked – for allowing myself to be beaten. So what if Grant had acted completely normal? So what if I'd thought that he was just a guy? I should have been far more careful.

So he was good. Blackthorne trained them well. Great. Fantastic. Just as long as they kept them far, far away where they belonged. But the next time I ran into one – whether it be Grant or someone else – I was going to be ready and I would _not_ allow myself to be outsmarted.

The only thought that had a hope of comforting me was that I wasn't the only one who hadn't completed the mission. No one else had, either. Some people had actually had rather unfortunate accidents and I almost considered myself lucky. Leah had broken a finger, which was set back in place before getting on the helicopter and Teresa Fries had ended up spraining her ankle. At least I hadn't gotten off as badly as they had. Still, though, I considered myself to have gotten off pretty bad. Being embarrassed was just as bad as breaking a finger or spraining an ankle to me.

The helicopter descended slowly and I was the first one out. I expected the voice, though, so I was already prepared to turn around when Mr. Solomon said, "Ms. Hunter; a word."

Leah gave me a small smile as she passed, holding ice to her no longer swollen finger, and I did my best to return it but, in truth, I didn't feel much like smiling. At anyone. That's why I stared coldly at Joe Solomon as he walked towards me. Vaguely, I was aware of the fact that his blond hair hadn't messed up in the slightest and I didn't think that was very fair. More pressing matters came to the front of my mind, though, and I said, "What?" I didn't snap it, I didn't say it with a tone of disrespect – I just said it. And sometimes, that can be worse.

"You're angry."

"Yes."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, you know I couldn't tell you. I had to-"

"Let me look like an idiot," I interrupted. "It's fine, okay? Forget it. It's over."

But the look on his face said something much different. I felt something like dread in the pit of my stomach as I swallowed and then managed to ask, "This isn't over, is it?"

He shook his head and looked at me, taking one step closer. "No; not by a long shot."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, demanding him to tell me. I wanted – no, needed – to know. I needed to be ready for a rematch.

He sighed. "Don't tell anyone. No one can know that I told you this; not even Leah."

I nodded. "I can keep secrets."

He nodded once and then said, "The Blackthorne Institute will be sending its best students to Gallagher in a week."

"Wait..." I said as my brain struggled to process all of that. "So, Blackthorne Guys are coming…here?"

He nodded. "Next Thursday."

"For the rest of the semester?"

He nodded. "They'll be-"

"In the East Wing," I interrupted. "No wonder it's been closed off; that's where their dorms are going to be. Oh, duh! There _are_ no ventilation shafts from the chem labs to the East Wing. So, they'll be staying here and taking our classes and eating with us and…"

"Yes," Mr. Solomon said.

"Everything's about to change," I muttered.

"Yes, it is."

The following Thursday, I was ready. I sat in my best uniform with my hair curled in the Grand Hall that evening, picking apart a dinner roll as Headmistress Morgan moved to the front of the room to make the announcement that would shock everyone except for me and the staff.

As she was making the announcement, the boys walked in, amid gasps and shrieks from the girls. I stayed calm and kept an eye on Grant from the corner of my eyes, watching the easy way that he walked and noticing when his gaze fell on me.

They reached the front and Alicia said, "Who's the Greek god?"

I guess it's true. Grant did look like a Greek god up there at the front of the room, looking exceedingly bored.

Of course, I was the only one that knew him, but I kept quiet. I didn't exactly want everyone to know that he had been the one who'd beaten me. I didn't want them to think that he was better than me.

Headmistress Morgan continued talking and I listened quietly, feeling eyes on me most of the time. Grant's and Mr. Solomon's. After the little speech, we were all released and headed back to our rooms. I listened as Alicia, Laura, and Leah talked about the boys and which one had been cuter and which one was more likely to have better martial artist skills. I pretended to be just as enthused as they were, even though inside, I was just as bored as Grant had looked.

I already had my plan.


	23. Chapter 23

23.

Turns out, I got my chance the very next morning. As every good operative knows, you have to prepare for you mission. You can't just waltz into an embassy party where you'll be trying to bug an arms dealer's cuff links if you don't have exit strategies and a rockin' dress. So, I got ready that morning for my mission. I curled my hair and did my makeup exactly like I'd had it done in the mall.

"Whoa," Laura said when she saw me, grinning.

Alicia looked at me too and promptly exclaimed, "You look _hot_."

"That's the plan," I said.

"The plan?" Leah questioned as she buttoned her blouse. "What plan?"

"Grant outsmarted me," I answered as I pulled on my tights. "He hurt me – wounded my pride – and I'm going to do the same to him."

"Oh!" Alicia said excitedly and she was practically bouncing up and down as she said, "I get it! You're going to make him fall for you and then you're going to break his heart!"

"Genius!" Laura exclaimed. "Let me know if I can help!"

I just laughed as the two of them headed out of the room, eager to get down to breakfast. Leah looked at me and said, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

I shrugged. "Seems pretty good to me. Only way I can think of, actually. I mean, maybe he won't fall for it, but I figure after growing up with a bunch of guys, he won't know-"

"No," she interrupted as she finished trying to French braid her hair. She groaned in frustration and said, "Can you help me with this?"

"Sure," I said with a laugh as I moved to sit on her bed with her and began to French braid her hair. "So, what was it you meant?"

"I mean, with you being with Mr. Solomon and everything – and after all of the drama with Rider and stuff – do you really think it wise to add another boy to the mix?"

I moved her hair around on her head, trying to be gentle because I knew that she was tender headed. "I'm not _adding_ another boy to the mix," I said. "I'm just pretending to like him; I'm not actually attracted to him."

"Fake relationships can turn into real ones," she warned.

I laughed as I secured the braid with a ponytail holder. "Don't worry about this, Leah. It'll be fine."

"What about Mr. Solomon?" she asked. "What would he say if he knew?"

I had, of course, thought about that. "I don't know."

"He'll find out, you know," she said as I moved off of her bed to grab my backpack. "I mean, if you're flirting with him and stuff, he'll figure it out. He's not stupid – far from it actually. He's a great operative, Katelyn and he's observant…"

"I know," I said. "Look, I'll just explain it. He won't flip out about it or anything."

She shrugged and went to grab her own backpack. "No, probably not."

We headed down for breakfast and I wasn't surprised at all to find that a fairly good crowd had gathered around Grant. He was pretty good looking, after all. His uniform looked almost exactly like what Mr. Solomon wore every day in class and his bronze hair was messy in all the right places. He caught my eyes with his deep brown ones and I looked away and sped up, the ultimate sign of flustered. (I had read the whole book on body language the previous night so that I was prepared.) I sat down at the table and then I noticed the reflection in the orange juice pitcher and smiled.

"Hey again." Grant said as he dropped onto the bench beside me.

I jumped very convincingly, even though I had seen him coming. "Oh…" I quickly turned back to my food, acting flustered. "Um…hi."

"Look," he said with an easy smile. "I just want you to know that that whole thing in New York City wasn't anything personal. It was just a mission."

"I know," I said quickly, looking at him and smiling. "I know, believe me. And, well, you were _good_."

He smirked. "Yeah, I guess I'm pretty good."

Note to self: target is not humble. "You are."

He leaned closer and said, "You were pretty good, too, ya know."

Note to self: target also smells unbelievably good.

"Oh, was I?" I asked, even though I knew I was good. In fact, I knew that I was better than him. I had just been off my game and unprepared. But that would never happen again. Ever. I was going to show him just how good I was.

He nodded and then shrugged. "Well, kinda. You could use some pointers."

I have no idea how I kept the smile on my face and the sweet tone in my voice. But I did. Maybe because spies/assassins are the ultimate actors. "Probably could," I pretended to agree. "Maybe _you_ could help me?"

He smiled at me and shrugged. "I'd be happy to. How 'bout tonight? Midnight; lacrosse fields."

"You've seen the lacrosse fields?" I asked, surprised. I figured that they would have come in the other way.

He nodded. "A good spy always makes himself aware of his surroundings."

Of course. I nodded. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"So," he said. "You in? Tonight?"

"That sounds good," I said. "I'll meet you out there. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Just your A game," he said before standing up. "See you tonight."

He headed away and I seriously regretted not being able to bring my A game and show him who I really was. What I was really capable of. But, if I was going to play this right, then I had to act hopeless at first. I had to make him fall for me. And then I could pull out my A game.

And Grant would never know what hit him.


	24. Chapter 24

24.

"Motivation," Mr. Solomon said as he came striding into the room without so much as a 'good morning, ladies'. He walked around his desk and put his hands on the back of the chair that he'd never sat in during any of our lessons. He liked to be up and moving and if he did sit, he liked to be seated where he could get up in a split second. He still wore the same type of outfit, though, and I drew comfort in the familiarity of it. "Define it, Ms. Green."

"Um…incentive, drive…"

"I did not ask for synonyms." He didn't say it harshly or rudely; he said it bluntly. And then, his gaze shifted to Laura. "Ms. Jarrel?"

"Umm..."

"It's why people do the things they do," he said, clearly disappointed that no one had known what he was looking for. But how were we supposed to know? That wasn't even the dictionary definition. He said it simply and though I knew it sounded basic, his tone told me that it was one of the most important things I'd ever learn.

"_What_, ladies, is almost always tied to _why_." He sat on the corner of his desk and surveyed us all, one by one, as we held our breath, waiting for his next words. "There are how many reasons that someone does something?"

"Six," I answered automatically, realizing it was true as the word came out of my mouth.

Joe Solomon's eyes locked with mine. "Very good, Ms. Hunter. And they are?"

"Love, faith, greed, boredom, fear…" I trailed off, knowing the last one but not wanting to say it. Is that why he had decided to do this lesson today? Because of the last one? Did he want to point it out to me? To tell me that he knew what I was doing? Or was it really a coincidence?

"I believe that's only five," he said softly, still staring right at me. I could feel my classmates' eyes on me as well.

My voice was just as soft as his when I said, "Revenge."

He stepped onto his feet again and went to write those down on the chalkboard. Maybe it was just my guilty conscience making things up, but I could have sworn that the writing of the word 'revenge' was a little bit bigger than the other words. But that could have totally just been me. I thought about asking Leah, who was sitting right next to me, but Mr. Solomon slapped his hands together and chalk particles flew from his skin, creating a mist of white. There was no need for the sound effect; all eyes were already on him. Everyone was listening very closely. No one wanted to miss this.

"We have gadgets," he said as he brushed off his hands. "We have comms units and trackers and satellites that can photograph the wings of a fly, but make no mistake, we practice a very old art."

I knew that it was true.

"Six things, ladies," he said and his voice was softer now, but still just as firm. He placed his hands on the back of his chair again. "And they haven't changed in five thousand years."

Everything was silent.

And then, he went off in a completely different direction. "Assets. Define the term, Ms. Gibson."

"An individual recruited and utilized by an operative to gain covert information."

It was correct, but Mr. Solomon didn't tell her so. "Listen up, and listen well," he said instead. Everyone leaned forward in their chairs, waiting. "The most important thing that you will ever do is _make people trust you_. You will become someone you aren't in order to befriend someone you hate." He paused for twenty two seconds.

It seemed strange to me. First, it had seemed like he was pointing out what he knew I was doing. Now, though, it seemed like he was trying to help me do it. I really wasn't sure what to think anymore, so I just opted to not think and take in details as they came. How cold the room was, that Mr. Solomon's shirt had three wrinkles, that Leah was about to fall out of her chair. It didn't matter; my head still hurt.

"We develop assets, ladies," he said evenly. "We find people who have information that we want and then we take it. Or persuade them to give it to us." He paused and studied each of us in turn, his eyes lingering on me for three seconds more than they had on everyone else. What was going on inside that head of his? I could only imagine. "We find traitors. We _lie_."

I was back to thinking again and it was giving me a serious headache. Seriously, nothing could compare. Did he or didn't he know? And if he did, why was he giving me information to help me? Did he want Grant taken down, too? Did he even know him? What the hell was going on? It kept going around and around in circles.

"Essay tonight, ladies," Mr. Solomon said as he paced at the front of the room, hands clasped behind his back. I'd found that Mr. Solomon didn't really have any familiar gestures; he changed it up – which was an attribute of a great spy. "Three thousand words. I want three examples of ways to use an asset. Am I clear?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good," he said. "Dismissed."

Everyone stood to grab their bags and I didn't even feel like complaining to Leah that it was too early. It would give me time to go to the library, get my essay done, and then pick an outfit for my meeting with Grant later.

"Ms. Hunter," Mr. Solomon said as I reached the door.

"Go on," I told Leah.

She left and Mr. Solomon and I were alone. "Yes?"

He walked to me and put his hand gently on my cheek. "Please tell me that whatever you're doing with Grant later is nothing."

"How do you know?" I asked, but I wasn't shocked.

"Lip reading," he answered. "Is it?"

"I want to get him back," I answered.

He smiled. "I thought so." Then, he kissed me passionately for a whole thirty seconds. When he pulled away, he was grinning. "Let me know if I can help in any way."

"I will," I smiled.


	25. Chapter 25

25.

Laura was putting eyeliner on me and Alicia was braiding back my bangs to put into the high ponytail. They had both eagerly thrown themselves into helping me on my "mission". Leah, however, sat by doing her Culture homework, which I had already gotten done. Mr. Solomon had told me that to help me with my mission, I didn't have to waste time doing his homework.

"Remember to act helpless," Laura said.

"But not _too_ helpless," Alicia said. "You can't act like the Gallagher Academy is incompetent."

"You can be good," Laura said as she moved on to mascara.

"Just not as good as him," Alicia agreed.

I already knew this stuff, but I figured it couldn't hurt to hear it.

"I wish we could put you in a sexier outfit," Laura complained.

"He's going to help her with training," Alicia said and I could tell that she was rolling her eyes. "They'll probably be martial arts fighting and stuff."

"Then why the makeup?" I questioned.

"Nonnegotiable," they said at the exact same time.

"Blush or no?" Laura asked as she screwed the cap on the mascara.

"No," Alicia answered. "That's a little over the top."

I scoffed.

"Done!" Alicia said as she secured the ponytail into place.

I wore black workout shorts that showed off my long, toned legs and a red tank top, along with my Nike Shox.

"Best we can do," Laura said.

"Probably," Alicia agreed. "Leah?"

Leah glanced up and gave us all a look that said that she didn't approve in the slightest.

"What?" Alicia asked defensively.

"Nothing." She looked back down at her homework.

"You better go!" Laura said. "Good luck!"

"Remember: tone it down!" Alicia called as I opened the door.

I left and headed for the front of the castle as quietly as possible. I had a near run-in with Mr. Smith, who was walking around in a nightshirt (I know, weird!) but I managed to avoid him and make it outside without too much trouble.

Grant was already out on the lacrosse field (which also had an underground compartment for the helicopters) stretching and he smiled as I approached. "You showed up."

"Yeah, I did," I said. "I'm eager to learn."

"Clearly," he said. "Stretch out."

I spent a few minutes stretching and then Grant said, "We'll begin with a bit of basic martial arts. I know you guys get about the same training that we do, but I think I can find ways to show you a better approach."

"Sounds good."

"Excellent," he said. "Now, come at me using the Bazinsky Method."

I did and he flipped me. That actually managed to impress me. "How did you do that?"

He helped me up. "The Bazinsky Method is really useful, but only when the other person doesn't know what it is. Most young people being trained nowadays do, though. So, you have to be ready. Now, when you're shifting your weight, that's when it's easiest for someone to gain access of your arm. Agree?"

I nodded.

He showed me what he meant. "Grab my arm."

I did. Note to self: target has impressively large forearms and biceps. And just muscles in general.

"Now, what will I do next to complete the move?" he asked.

"Shift your weight the other way to place the kick."

"Correct," he said. "Now, you don't want me to ever get my foot off of the ground for the kick. You'll want to stop me before then. Agree?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he said. "So, you use my shift in weight against me. Turn at a forty-five degree angle."

I did.

"Now flip."

I pretended to flip him. I obviously couldn't do it for real because we were going in slow motion and he had at least fifty pounds on me. "Good," he said. "Try it a little faster."

Even though I had gotten the move perfectly when he'd showed me the first time, I messed up on purpose so that he would have to correct my stance or the grip on his arm. When he touched me, I pretended to blush and I knew that he noticed. Finally, we got around to doing it full speed and I managed to flip him.

"I did it!" I cheered like a little schoolgirl would.

Grant smiled up at me from the ground. "Yeah, you did. Good job."

"Thanks." I helped him up and was actually grateful for that move. I wouldn't have figured that out on my own. "What's next?"

He helped me with blocking certain other moves – some I knew and some I didn't, but I pretended not to know any of them, just the same. After we finished the last one, he looked at his watch and said, "Wow. It's two in the morning."

It hadn't seemed like we'd been out there that long and I was surprised. "Oh. We should get back inside."

He nodded. "Good plan. How 'bout we pick this up Saturday night?"

"We could work out in the P&E barn Saturday afternoon," I said. "No one ever uses it then."

"Excellent," he said. "And then we can have a midnight session as well."

"Sounds good," I smiled.

"Let's go, then."

We made our way back up to the mansion, Grant keeping a distance of about a foot as we walked. I noticed the way that he walked with his shoulders slightly slumped forward, as if he were the most harmless guy on earth. But I knew what he was – because I was one too. I knew that he was capable of killing someone with his bare hands or with any common household item. And I knew that he didn't know what I was capable of. Yet. He didn't even know that I knew what _he_ was capable of.

He thought that I thought what everyone else thought about their school. That it was a school for boy spies. Assassin school had never crossed their minds. But it was on mine as he told me goodnight and walked towards the East Wing, his footsteps making no sound on the floor.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

"Hey," Grant said Saturday as I made my appearance in the P&E barn. He was already warming up and his bare, muscled chest glistened with sweat. He wore black basketball-type shorts and his tennis shoes were a kind of Nike that I didn't recognize.

"Hi," I smiled and pulled at the bottom of my tank top.

"So," he said, "Warm up on your own."

"Sure," I nodded and began to stretch. Purposefully, I began to stretch my shoulders the wrong way, and it wasn't long before Grant's arms wrapped around me and he moved my arms to the correct position. "It's much more effective if you do it this way," he said.

"Oh," I said, making sure that I wasn't looking at him so that he'd think I was embarrassed. "Thanks."

"Stretched?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He let go of me and backed up. I turned around to face him and then he said, "Let's review."

We reviewed the things that he'd taught me before and he nodded when we were done. "Pretty good. Ready to move on?"

I nodded. "Born ready."

He "taught" me some pretty cool tricks and I had "difficulty" with some, so he had to help me. Every time he did, he would get really close to me and show me what to do by moving with me. I made it a point of looking at him in a way that would make me seem shy and flirty, and then I began to notice the way that he was looking at me. It reminded me of how Rider had looked that day in the woods and how Mr. Solomon sometimes looked.

Weird, right?

"I feel like I got beat with a brick over and over again." I commented as we headed back for the mansion.

He laughed, a sound that was loud and booming, but something like a calm wind. "Do ya now? Maybe if you had listened to me and stretched after every few sets…"

"Shut up," I commented as I purposefully ran into him. "Do _you_ stretch after every few sets?"

"As you can see," he said, gesturing to a bicep – which, admittedly, was rather large – "I'm in better shape than you."

"_Whatever_." I hit his arm. "I'm in just as good of shape as you."

Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the front doors of the mansion. "Where are we going?" I asked, confused. He didn't answer, instead choosing to continue to pull me along with him. "Grant?"

And then he spoke, as naturally as if he were discussing the weather. He spoke as if he'd been speaking the whole time. "There's a really good way for us to determine who's in better shape."

And then I felt like groaning. I just _knew_ that he was going to make me run until I felt like I would puke. Because if there's one thing I know and that I'm not afraid to admit, it's that guys are better than girls at certain things. It's just a fact. And running – especially from a guy that had been trained exactly as I had – would fall right into that slot.

Well, either running or maybe he would just make us do a whole bunch of different workout-type materials. Maybe we would do more martial arts. But then, why wasn't he heading back for the P&E barn? Why was he heading to a section of the mansion where there were no guard stations, no students? Was he planning to kill me? No, I wouldn't let that happen. I'd be ready.

He noticed me tense up. "Relax, Katelyn. I'm not the bad guy here."

"Okay," I said in a tone that clearly told him I was still on my guard.

Finally, he let go of my arm and gently steered me by the shoulders so that I was against the wall of the mansion. I was confused, but my brain was still working. I knew that the only cameras that would be going were the ones pointing away from us. I knew that the laser grid wasn't up. I knew that it was about four o' clock judging by the sun's position. I knew a lot of things…

Except for the reason that Grant kissed me. He gave me absolutely no warning, and – I hate to admit – it surprised me. Spies are supposed to be ready for anything. Assassins are supposed to be even _more_ ready for anything. But I wasn't ready at all. I didn't expect it and for a few seconds, I couldn't do anything.

He pulled away and gave me a wicked grin. "Can't take the heat?"

"What?"

"Making out," he said as if it were the most obvious thing ever. "Whoever runs out of breath first is obviously not in as good of shape as the other person."

Oh no. That was his method of proving he was in better shape than me. At the moment, even though I was _really_ exhausted, I would have rather run five miles. I would have rather done some intensive P&E training. I would have rather been tailing Mr. Smith (the most paranoid man on the planet, in case you weren't aware). What would Joe think? What would Joe say? Would he be okay with it or would it be a deal breaker? And what kind of girl would it make me?

But spies – and assassins – have covers and legends. We become different people to achieve something. We use people. We lie. We pretend. So I took a barely noticeable breath, put my arms around his neck, and kissed him. I emptied my mind of all thoughts, meditating while his lips moved with mine.

Maybe this will surprise you, but he was actually a pretty good kisser. And this makes me sound like a slut, but I was actually beginning to enjoy it. That is, until I heard Joe Solomon's voice say, "What's going on here?"

Before I saw the pained look on his face.

Before I knew I'd ruined the best thing I could've ever had.


	27. Chapter 27

**I know it probably drives you crazy when I don't update (sorry if I sound full of myself), so I decided to update twice today! Enjoy!**

27.

I knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer, I tried the handle and it turned effortlessly. Inside, I looked around the familiar room and memorized every detail without effort. It was strange, though, seeing the room in total disarray. Books were strewn everywhere and the recliner was upturned. There was a spot of shattered glass that must have been a cup and there were a few drops of blood near the shards of glass that sparkled like diamonds.

The bedroom door was cracked open just a little bit and so that's where I headed. Most people would have retreated as soon as they saw the wreck of the living quarters, but I was ready to handle anything. Except for the sight of Joe Solomon sitting on his bed, staring at the wall, unmoving. His hair stuck up in several places as if he'd gripped it with the intent to pull it out and his clothes were slightly wrinkled. A white cloth stained with blood was wrapped around his left hand.

"Joe," I said, my voice breaking.

He didn't even flinch. Of course he didn't, he had to have heard me enter the room. Joe Solomon was a very good spy.

"Joe," I said again, regaining some of my composure. I took a tentative step forward. He didn't move. I wondered how someone could stare at a spot on the wall for that long. He was hardly even blinking and I couldn't even tell that he was breathing. "Joe, what happened to your hand?"

"I smashed the glass," he said and his voice pierced me like a knife. It was so…painful. "I was holding it and it just…shattered."

"Did you get all of the glass out of your hand before you wrapped it in the cloth?" I asked, concerned.

"I don't know."

"Let me look," I whispered as I walked even closer. I sat down beside him on the bed and reached for his hand. He didn't move it towards me, but he didn't make any kind of objection when I took it and moved it closer to look at it. I unwrapped the cloth and saw that his hand was a mess of blood, but I couldn't really see any glass. That didn't mean that none was there, though.

"We need to clean this up," I said, already heading for the bathroom. When I got back, he was sitting exactly as I had left him. I cleaned off the dried blood with the wet rag and then cleaned the cuts and covered them with Neosporin. Then, I got the bandage and put it over his hand, covering that with pre-wrap. As I began to tape it up with athletic tape, he asked, "Did you like it?"

I jumped because his voice was so sudden in the silence. "Sorry; what?"

"When you were kissing him," he clarified, effectively punching me in the gut without touching me. "Did you like it?"

I could have lied, but I had already hurt him enough and I had a feeling that he would know if I was lying. He was a highly trained operative, after all. "A little bit."

"I thought so," he said.

"You knew what I was trying to do," I said quietly, wrapping the tape around again. "I was flirting, but I didn't know he'd kiss me. And then, it was either blow the entire operation or…"

"Or make out with him."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"It hurt," he said. "You have no idea how much it hurt me, Katelyn, when I saw you with him like that." He was still staring at the wall, but his voice was strong and clear. "With his arms around you and him kissing you like that…"

A tear fell from my eye but I continued to look down at his hand that I was wrapping.

"And you were kissing back," he finished in a soft voice.

"Joe," I whispered, done wrapping his hand. "I'm _so_ sorry." I stood and began putting all of the first aid supplies back where I'd found them. "I didn't mean for that to happen, I swear. It just did and…I never meant to hurt you, Joe."

He finally looked over at me, his bright green eyes piercing me.

"Joe," I said slowly, unsure if I really wanted to say the words. It would mean admitting weakness and I had never been good at that. But, it was worth a sot. "I know this sounds crazy, but…I mean, I've only known you for about six months and… This is so insane. But after everything with Rider and after everything that's happened between us and… Joe…" I took a deep breath. "Joe, I love you."

He looked surprised, which made me feel a little better. At least I wasn't the only one that got caught off guard sometimes. He stared at me for a full ten seconds before he asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said, never being surer about anything in my life. "Maybe it sounds crazy, but it's true, Joe. I…I trust you. I love you. And if you want me to quit this thing with Grant, I will. I don't want to lose you. I feel like you're the only one I have left in this world and I…"

But then Joe Solomon stood, crossed the room, and pulled me into his arms, his lips crashing onto mine with ten times more force than Grant's had. I immediately kissed him back, winding my arms around his neck and tangling my fingers in his already mussed up hair. He backed me against the wall and then moved his mouth to my neck so that I could breathe.

He pulled away slowly, as if he really didn't want to. Then, he cupped my face in both hands, kissed my forehead, and whispered, "I love you too, Katelyn. So much. Actually, I never even knew love until I met you."

"I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you," he said and then his lips were on mine again as my fingers worked at the buttons on his shirt. He pulled away for a moment. "Katelyn, are you sure about this?"

In answer, I pulled him back in. He smiled into the kiss and picked me up swiftly without separating out lips. He set me gently on the bed and whispered, "I'll be gentle."


	28. Chapter 28

28.

And he was.

Gentle, I mean. His touch was so feather-light that I shivered under him and he kissed me so gently that I wondered if he thought I was like that glass he'd smashed with his hand – fragile and breakable. But for once, I didn't mind being considered fragile and breakable. In fact, I _felt_ fragile and breakable in his strong arms.

He talked me through it, telling me when I would feel pain and always asking me if I was comfortable or if I wanted him to stop. Maybe you'd think that would kill the mood, but it really didn't. It made it that much better that he communicated with me.

Afterwards, he pulled the covers up around us and held me in his arms. "Are you okay?" he whispered against my hair.

"Yeah," I answered, knowing that I would be sore the next morning.

He kissed my slightly sweaty temple. "You're sure?"

"I'm fine," I responded, smiling at him.

He studied my face closely. "I don't just mean physically. I mean emotionally and mentally and-"

I kissed him so that he'd quit talking. When I pulled away, I said, "I've never been better. I never knew I could feel all of those things; it's so…amazing."

He smiled at me and said, "I always wondered what it would be like to find someone. Our lives are hard and I wondered if it would be easier to share with someone else who knew. Someone who knew that you couldn't tell them everything and someone who understood why you were gone a lot."

"Are you?" I asked. "Gone a lot," I clarified.

He pondered it for a moment and kissed my temple absentmindedly. "Not anymore. I mean, with me teaching and everything. I've been working on something, though…"

"Tell me," I requested quietly and he smiled and obliged. He talked for a while about the Circle that Rider was now a member of; the group that was after me. He talked about the history of the Gallagher and the Circle and about what they wanted now. "In addition to you," he told me, "they want Cammie Morgan."

"Cammie Morgan?" She was a year below me and her chameleon skills were said to be almost as good as mine. "Why do they want her?"

"I worked with her father," he explained. "Matt was several years older than me, so he was my mentor at first and then…we became like brothers."

I had heard that Cammie's father was gone. "What happened to him?"

"Dunno," Joe said and kissed my lips once, twice, three times. "He went to chase down a lead about the Circle and then…he missed call-ins and didn't meet with his person and…I went looking for him but…I could never find him."

"Do you think he's dead?" I whispered.

"Yes," Joe said honestly. "But they think that Cammie knows whatever it is they wanted Matt for. They'll kill her too, after they have their knowledge."

"Does Cammie know?" I asked.

"Not yet."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"It's not my place to," he responded. "I've told Rachel and it's her decision."

"But-"

He interrupted me with a passionate kiss. "We just made love for the first time and _this_ is what we're choosing to talk about?"

I laughed. "I guess so. Um…" I blushed.

"What?" he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Never mind." I tried to nuzzle into his shoulder, but he held me at arm's length.

"What?" he asked, grinning. "Come on, tell me."

"It wasn't a statement," I mumbled, not looking at him. Instead, I focused on his muscled forearm, but then all I could remember was how he held me while he moved against me and I got distracted.

"Then what do you want to ask me?" he asked.

I sighed. "Nothing."

He pulled me close to him, wrapping his arms around me as he kissed me. "I thought that now that we've been so intimate, you wouldn't have a problem with talking to me."

I sighed. "Physical stuff is a lot different." Maybe not for some girls, who were insecure about their bodies, but I knew that mine was pretty rockin'.

"See, I thought that when you give yourself to someone, you're giving them _everything_. I mean, that's not what the rest of the world thinks, but that's still what I think. I gave you _everything_, Katelyn. My heart, my mind, my soul, and my body. Is that not what it meant for you?"

"You don't understand," I whispered, blinking back tears.

"Then talk to me."

I sighed. "It seems like every time I give myself completely to someone, they disappear or they hurt me, or…"

He kissed me and when he pulled away, he looked right into my eyes. "I will _never_ hurt you, Katelyn. I love you and I will _never_ leave you."

I smiled. "That's reassuring."

He smiled, too. "So, talk to me, love."

"I wanted to know if it was okay for you," I said quietly. "I mean, I hope you weren't focusing so much on making it good for me that you weren't happy with it."

He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "Trust me, it was perfect. I was really your first?"

I nodded and blushed slightly. "You knew."

"Only by the way you acted," he said. "A little unsure. But I didn't know beforehand. You seemed so confident."

I laughed. "I often bite off more than I can chew."

He kissed me again. "I love you."

"Mmm," I said in reply. "I love you, too. But I really should get going. My roommates will worry."

He sighed. "I suppose."

I pulled on my clothes quickly, blushing only slightly when I noticed that Joe was watching me. When I finished, I kissed him quickly. "Bye."

"Bye," he said. "Oh, and, you might want to get some of Dr. Fib's bruise cream for those hickeys on your neck. Just a suggestion."

I blushed before exiting the room.


	29. Chapter 29

29.

"Can I sit here?"

I jumped and turned from my seat on the bench to see Grant standing behind me, holding a tray with an apple and a small bowl of oatmeal on it, along with a glass of orange juice. I forced a smile, remembering that I was still supposed to be acting all into him. "Of course."

"How was your talk with Mr. Solomon?" he asked. "I didn't mean to get you into trouble."

After Mr. Solomon had caught us, he'd quickly made up a mad-teacher façade. He'd lectured, saying that it was inappropriate for us to be doing that on school grounds and that he needed to talk to me in private to go over a punishment. I bit back a smile and shrugged. "No big deal, actually. Just detention every night this week. Not really sure what I'll be doing."

But I did. I'd be on mini-dates with Joe Solomon, my official boyfriend. He'd allowed the whole school to know about Grant and him making out with me (which wasn't hard because it's hard to keep things from a bunch of spies, even if they are in training), so according to the rest of the school, I really did have detention.

Grant nodded slowly. "So, are we official?"

I almost choked on my apple juice. Seriously, Grant had to thump me on the back so that I wouldn't choke. "Um, what?" I finally managed, trying to ignore stares.

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling like I was the most entertaining person he'd ever talked to. But I knew that there was no way that was true. He didn't even know the real me. He didn't know that I knew the truth about his school or that I had all of the training that he'd had. He didn't know that I was involved with Joe Solomon and that, in that process, I had broken another assassin's heart. No, he didn't know me at all, but he liked to think he did. "Official," he repeated as if I hadn't heard him. "You know, like going out and stuff. Boyfriend and girlfriend."

This was what I had wanted, I knew, but it still felt weird. I caught Joe Solomon's eye and he gave me a small smile, along with a nod. _Go for it._ I sighed. "Yeah, sure. Official."

Grant smiled. "Cool. So, I hear we're going to town on Saturday. How about a movie?"

I shrugged. "Sounds great."

"Good." He spooned in oatmeal while I ate a banana and then it was finally time for CoveOps. Grant had been moved up to the junior CoveOps class where he belonged, and he claimed the seat next to me that Leah usually took. She wasn't a bad sport about it, though. In fact, she smiled at us.

"What do you think of Mr. Solomon?" Grant asked me in a soft voice, his chair closer to me than it really should have been.

I kept my voice even. "He's a really good teacher. What about you?"

"He's legend at Blackthorne," Grant said, as if that should say everything.

Before I could say anything else, Mr. Solomon himself walked in, wearing black slacks and a white shirt, his blond hair neatly laid down. "Hello, ladies and gentlemen," he said as if the 'gentlemen' part had always been there. "Today, we will be learning about the art of lying. Dr. Fibs has been so kind as to allow me the use of-" he reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of what looked like mood rings. "These detect lies. You will feel a subtle vibration which alerts you to said lie. Partner with the person across from you."

When he handed me my ring, he flashed me a special smile because no one else could see him. They could all see me, though, so I acted as though he hadn't smiled, even though butterflies were going off in my stomach.

"Should be fun," Grant said with a grin.

I smiled, too.

"How 'bout a demonstration?" Alicia asked with a wicked grin and a bunch of the girls agreed. Mr. Solomon sighed and gestured for her to continue, since he was closest to her desk.

She thought for a moment. "Do you have a girlfriend?" she asked suddenly, her whole face lighting up.

People leaned forward excitedly. I held my breath.

"Yes," he said, looking like he was fighting a laugh.

Alicia looked at her hand. "It didn't do anything. So it's true?"

"Ask again," he suggested.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," he answered.

Alicia looked at the ring in disbelief and shook her hand.

Mr. Solomon let out a half laugh. "It's not broken. It's just not as good at detecting lies as I am at telling them. Yes, these rings can be fooled by a highly trained operative. Let's hope a few of you can fool these rings today. Get to work."

Grant slipped on his ring and then looked at me. "So, did you like making out with me?"

"I don't think that's the kind of questions he was talking about," I said, though I made sure to give him a flirty smile.

"Answer the question," Grant grinned.

"Yes," I said and the ring must not have vibrated, because he said, "Good; I liked it, too." Which made me blush for real. I didn't consider myself an expert kisser.

"Do you want to do it again sometime?"

I blushed, but I knew what my answer had to be. "Yes."

He looked satisfied. "How about tonight?"

"I have detention."

His face fell slightly, but he kept up the cockiness. "Next week?"

"Sure."

"Ms. Hunter," Mr. Solomon called from the front of the room. "I need a word about your detention."

I sighed dramatically, as if the last thing in the world I wanted to do was talk to him, and ambled over. Now, it was my turn to be able to smile, which I did. He kept his face neutral. "I hate seeing you with him."

"It's just for a little while longer," I reminded him. "And you know I love you."

"Maybe you should show me tonight," he said, which made me blush for real and think about how hard it was going to be to make it through the rest of the day until my "detention".


	30. Chapter 30

30.

"I was right, wasn't I?"

I smiled against his skin and blushed. "Yeah, you were; rougher is _most definitely_ better. But I'm going to hurt tomorrow."

He chuckled lightly and kissed my temple. "It could definitely be a P&E exercise."

I laughed. "Yeah. We'd just have to find a bunch of hot teachers that really know what they're doing."

He smirked against the skin of my bare shoulder. "Know what they're doing, huh?"

"Shut up," I laughed and snuggled closer to him, feeling his arms tighten around me.

"So are you going to the movies with Grant on Saturday?"

I pulled away from him slightly and looked at his face, studying. He didn't look mad, though, just mildly curious. As if reading my mind, he laughed and kissed me lightly. "I'm not angry, love. I understand what you're doing – even if I don't completely agree with it."

"He deserves to be humiliated like he humiliated me," I insisted, propping myself up on one elbow.

"Humiliated is a bit of an overstatement," Joe said. "He didn't mean to humiliate you. He was just on a mission."

"Are you taking his side?"

"Since when are there sides?" He sounded genuinely confused, looking up at me with narrowed eyes.

I sat up, staring down at him, anger seething just below the surface. "Why isn't this a good plan?"

"I didn't say it wasn't."

"You said you didn't agree with it."

He sighed and sat up beside me, running a hand through his messed up blond hair, causing some pieces to lie down that had been sticking up because of my tight grip. "Look, Katelyn, is this really fair?"

"_Fair_?" I asked in disbelief.

He looked at me closely. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"How easy it is for people to fall for you," he clarified, his eyes boring into mine. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn't look away. "Katelyn, you're amazing. You're smart and beautiful and _enticing_. It's hard to stay away from you. But you don't even realize that people are drawn to you. You've already broken Rider's heart, Katelyn. Why Grant's, too?"

Hearing him say all of that made me feel like he was just calling me a slut in a nicer way. He thought that I had broken Rider's heart on purpose. Was he seriously complaining about that? If I had broken Rider's heart, it was so that I could be with Joe! Anger filled me and coursed through my veins with the blood, making me feel exactly like I always felt before a mission – except with a slight twist.

I threw the covers off of me, not caring one bit about my exposed body, and began to scoop up my clothes. I pulled my underwear on first and I was snapping my bra before he said, "What are you doing?"

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing?" I snapped as I reached for my jeans.

"Okay," he said slowly. "But why?"

"If Rider's heart was even broken by me, Joe, I did it for you!" I yelled, wheeling around and looking at him. The sheets were tangled around his waist and he just looked dumbfounded and surprised that I had raised my voice like that to him.

Finally, he said, "I know that."

"Then you sure as hell shouldn't be complaining!" I yelled, exasperated as I pulled on my camisole and looked around the floor for my shirt. I should have been paying attention to where Joe had tossed it when he'd all but torn it from my body, but I had been a little preoccupied then.

I pulled it on and heard sounds that told me Joe was dressing, too. I headed for the door but I hadn't even taken two steps when Joe's arm was around my waist and he was pulling me back in, towards him. I didn't fight him, but I didn't exactly give myself over to his embrace either.

"Katelyn," he said softly. "I didn't mean to make you angry."

"I never meant to hurt Rider," I said honestly, refusing to cry. I wasn't looking at him, though the carpeted floor of his bedroom wasn't much to look at. "I really didn't." And I hadn't. He had been a close friend since we'd been born. The last thing I had ever wanted to do was hurt him. And now, it looked like all of that pain was all in vain.

"I know that," he said softly, his grip around my waist loosening ever so slightly. "I never said that you meant to hurt him; I know you wouldn't do that. But you did, Katelyn, because you don't realize the effect that you have on people."

"What are you talking about?" I finally asked, looking up at him. He was wearing jeans and no shirt, his ab muscles very evident. His hair was still mussed up and he was looking at me with an expression that was a perfect mixture of confusion and gentleness.

"People orient themselves around you, Katelyn."

When I snorted, he grabbed my hands. "They do, Katelyn. They really do. Your classmates look to you for leadership and Rider still saw you as an extremely close friend because you affect people and-"

"This has nothing to do with Grant," I interrupted.

"Is it really right to hurt Grant like this?" he asked.

"Are you saying this because you're just jealous?" I quipped.

He shook his head. "No, of course not. But Grant was just doing his job that day, Katelyn. It was an assignment."

"He humiliated me!" I yelled. "I shouldn't have underestimated him; but I thought-"

"So you're going to hurt him because _you_ made a mistake?" He asked. "You're so wrapped up in being perfect that this matters that much to you? Really, Katelyn?"

But I didn't hear his next words because I had already swung my hand out and slapped him as hard as I could. Instead of waiting around, I swept out the door and then out of his chambers.


	31. Chapter 31

31.

I wasn't really sure where I was going, but I didn't question it. Sometimes – most of the time – it's good for a spy on a mission to just let go and do whatever's natural. Whatever is instinctive. So I didn't question it. I automatically responded when Mr. Smith greeted me and asked about the short period that I'd lived in Moscow. I nodded at Dr. Fibs and made up an excuse when he asked me to help him test an experiment. I kept moving.

And then I found myself outside the doors of the East Wing where the boys were staying and I froze at the door, unsure of what to do. Knock? Yell? Leave?

Before I could do any of those things, the door opened and a boy that looked like an eighth grader appeared on the other side, shocked at seeing a girl standing there. I was just as shocked, but I'd had more training than him and I recovered much faster. "I was looking for Grant."

"I'll…go get him," the boy said and retreated back to the other side of the door.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail, not really caring how it looked, and waited. Fifty-two seconds later, Grant came out, smiling easily. "You scared Jake half to death."

"Sorry."

He seemed to sense that there was something wrong. In my defense, I wasn't exactly trying to cover it up. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "I don't really think I want to talk about it."

"Do you want to take a walk?"

For some reason, that sounded like exactly what I wanted. I nodded and Grant began walking and I fell into step beside him. We walked through the mansion, passing Headmistress Morgan, who gave us a smile and a greeting, to which we both politely replied. We reached the doors and Grant opened one for me, gesturing for me to go first in a way that would have made Madam Dabney very proud.

The air was a little chilly outside and I realized that I didn't have a jacket. Grant did, though, and he put it on my shoulders without a moment's hesitation. It made me sad to think about the time that Joe had done the very same thing. At the very same place.

We walked down the steps and into the grass, heading off in the direction of the lake. I could smell Grant's cologne and hear our footsteps in the grass and I felt the wind as it blew against my face, bringing with it the smell that I always associated with winter.

"What's wrong?" Grant asked again, and this time, I found it harder to say that it was nothing. He didn't believe me, either. "I know about you, you know."

I looked over at him to find him staring straight ahead at the lake, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "What do you mean you know about me?"

"You didn't think I would, did you?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said softly even though I had a pretty good idea.

"You're an assassin, aren't you?"

My heart stopped beating for a split second and I looked ahead at the lake. His eyes turned to me; I could feel them. "No."

"You sure?"

I sighed. "I'm not an assassin. But I have the training."

"I figured."

I looked over at him and he flashed me a smile. "And you don't really like me, do you?"

I started to talk, but he cut me off. "It's okay; I get it."

"It's horrible of me," I said softly, feeling guilty.

He laughed. "Some assassin you are. We're supposed to be detached, remember?"

"Yeah," I said, even though I didn't care.

"So, what's going on with you and Joe?"

I looked over at him, my mouth falling open.

He laughed. "Give me some credit. I may not be a Gallagher Girl, but Blackthorne Boys are just as good. I think I've already proved that one."

"I wasn't paying attention that day," I mumbled.

"Excuses," he sang.

I smiled.

"So," he said as we reached the edge of the water. He sat down and patted the space beside him. "Tell me about you and Joe."

And, for some reason, I did. I told him everything. I told him about the beginning of the year and about Joe following me in the woods that day and Joe's warnings about Rider. I told him about the meeting with Rider in town and then the kiss with Joe. I told him about my first time with Joe and then, finally, about the fight that we'd just had. It felt so good to be telling someone and it was even better that Grant just sat and listened instead of asking fifty million questions like a girl would.

"Wow," he said when I was finished.

I laughed, though I probably sounded like some crazy woman.

"You love him."

"Yeah," I admitted. "I do."

"Then why do you keep running away?"

I looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

He shrugged as he picked up a rock and tossed it into the water, where it splashed, a sound that echoed through the night. "There's a pattern there, in case you haven't noticed."

"A pattern where?"

He threw another rock and there was another splash. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Where?" I repeated, watching him closely. The full moon threw half of his face into light while the other half stayed in the shadows.

"A pattern in your relationship," he said.

I looked away from him and at the dark water. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," he said knowingly. "Why do you keep running away, Katelyn?"

"I'm not," I said defiantly.

"Yes, you are. He cares about you and-"

"It scares me," I said suddenly, feeling it to be true. I shuddered even though I was wearing his jacket. "It scares me."

"Then fight it."


	32. Chapter 32

32.

Fight-or-flight response was described by Walter Bradford Cannon. How do I know this? I think you'll find that I know tons of things that I'll never really have to know in my day-to-day life. I just remember things. Anyway, Walter stated that animals react to threats with a general discharge of the sympathetic nervous system, priming the animal for fighting or fleeing. This response was later recognized as the first stage of a general adaptation syndrome that regulates stress responses among vertebrates and other organisms.

Fight-or-flight is common. It occurs everyday, even in situations that don't involve saber tooth tigers or bank robbers. It can happen when your mom wants you to clean your room before you go out; it can happen when a friend confronts you about something. It can happen to anyone, and it's happened to me plenty of times.

The problem is: I don't really know how to fight. Sure, I'm a black belt in eight different kinds of martial arts and I've taken down terrorists without blinking an eye; but when it comes to emotional stuff, I'm the worst. I always chose flight, as if fight wasn't even an option. Because I'm afraid of getting hurt. Because I never knew how to let someone in.

But I was done with that. I'd put on a gray dress with black flats, curled my hair, and put on the perfect amount of makeup. I smelled like my favorite perfume, and I felt tingly inside like I'd never felt before.

And I was on my way to surrender all of my barriers to Joe Solomon.

I got scared when he didn't answer the door, but just as I was about to try the knob, the door opened and Joe stood on the other side, wearing jeans and a navy polo. His eyes widened and he looked at me for a moment before asking, "Why aren't you in town with everyone else?"

"Why aren't you?"

He seemed to find this an adequate response because he didn't ask again. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you."

He nodded and moved aside so that I could step in. I walked over to the couch and asked, "Can I sit?"

He nodded. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, I'm good, thanks," I said, feeling as if I were taking a Culture test. I sat down and Joe sat on the chair near me, looking at me with a steady gaze.

"Things need to be said," I spoke quietly, holding his gaze.

He nodded. "I know."

"Please, let me talk and don't interrupt, okay?"

He nodded and waited. I took a deep breath and then began to talk. "I don't know how this happened. At the beginning of this year, all I could think about was becoming better and making my parents proud. That's all I've ever wanted. I never considered that there could be more for me than going on missions and being a spy. I never thought that I was worth any of that; not me. And then I met you and I knew you were different. You were an amazing teacher and you got to me and you showed me things and told me things that I never would have figured out on my own. And then there was the whole thing with Rider and I was confused but…you helped me through it. And Grant…I was so stupid with Grant, Joe, I know that. But you forgave me. You forgave me for everything and you didn't see me for who I'd been trained to be. You saw me for who I really am on the inside and no one's ever done that before. No one's ever _tried_. And you were right the other night, Joe. You were right. I was so caught up in being perfect that I was willing to hurt Grant and that was wrong. And I shouldn't have slapped you and walked out like I did. Joe…"

I paused and looked down at the ground. "Joe, I'm so sorry. And I love you. And I guess that I'm just asking you to forgive me again, even though I don't deserve you." I finished and took a couple of deep breaths, waiting.

After thirty seconds, he spoke, his voice gentle. "Katelyn, look at me."

Slowly, I lifted my eyes to his.

He was smiling. "Did you really mean all of that?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I did."

"You love me?"

"More than anything," I said. "Joe, my heart's yours. Everything is yours. _I'm_ yours."

"Everything?" he whispered, moving from his chair to the couch beside me in one fluid motion. "You trust me that much?"

I let him take my hand and I answered in a surprisingly steady voice. "I'm _so_ sick of being scared all of the time. I'm sick of trying to be perfect and trying to please everyone. I just want to be me. The real me. And I can't do that unless I'm with you. Yes, Joe, I trust you. I love you. Wholly and completely – with everything that I have and all that I am."

He leaned forward then and kissed me, pulling me tightly to his body. I eagerly kissed him back, moving my hands to tangle in his hair. I found myself lying on the couch and he was supporting himself over me easily so that his weight wouldn't bear down on me. His smile was just as bright as his eyes and his voice was full of the same love I felt. "I love you so much, Katelyn."

"Then prove it," I whispered, smiling seductively.

He moved his lips back to mine and gave me a tender kiss, which confused me. Noting my confusion, he pulled away and smiled lovingly at me. "Rougher may be fun, but I want to take my time right now, love. I want to enjoy this; every second of this."

"Agreed," I smiled and moved my lips back to his.


	33. Chapter 33

**Almost done! One more chapter after this! I want to thank all of you for the awesome reviews and for reading this story! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Happy reading!**

33.

I laid there, wrapped in the warm sheets and Joe's arms. I could smell Joe's cologne mixed with the sweat from our bodies and the shampoo that I used in my hair. Joe and I talked about anything and everything, our voices soft murmurs and filled with words of love. Occasionally, my body would writhe with the excess of pleasure and love that filled me so completely. And every time this happened, Joe would smile and kiss my forehead.

After an hour or so of this, I could finally relax my muscles. Joe smirked and kissed my slightly sweaty temple. "I'm that good, huh?"

"Shut up," I laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be so cocky. No one likes a bragger."

"It's not bragging if it's true," he disagreed, kissing my jaw and then the corner of my mouth. "And there was plenty of proof for that one."

"Mmm," I said absentmindedly as I pulled him in for a kiss.

When we pulled away, he asked, "Your roommates won't be worried?"

I shook my head. "I've been gone all night before. Besides, if they had told somebody, you'd know. One of the teachers would come to get you for a search or something."

"When have you been gone all night before?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "A couple of times, actually. Once, I got stuck in a secret passageway and the other time I went into town to see my parents. They probably think that's what happened anyway."

He kissed my neck and his hands moved down my body under the sheets. "Good. You know, I think we have time-"

"Not now, Joe," I said, even though I desperately wanted to. It was kind of ridiculous how much I wanted him, especially considering the fact that I'd never wanted a guy in my life before. "I'm so tired." And I really was; we hadn't slept all night and physical exertion always made me a little tired.

"You don't have to do anything," he smirked at me and kissed me softly, convincingly.

I groaned in defeat and he laughed as he captured my lips in another kiss, moving so that his body hovered over mine while his lips trailed my body.

And then there was a knock on the front door of Joe's quarters. He looked mad as he pulled away from me and muttered, "_Perfect_ timing."

I smiled and rolled off the bed as well, pulling on clothes. I found my panties and my underwear first and then looked at my dress that had a tear in the front. I held it up, holding back a laugh. "You got a little carried away."

He smirked at it. "Wasn't that the second time, though? After you were dressed and ready to leave?"

I rolled my eyes. "Probably. What am I going to do now?"

There was another knock and Joe called, "Coming! Just a minute!" He walked to his dresser and pulled out sweatpants and a T-shirt, then tossed them to me. "You'll probably have to roll these up about twenty times, but they'll have to do."

I nodded. "I'll stay in here until we know who it is."

He nodded and pulled on his polo and gave me a quick kiss before walking out of the bedroom. I heard the door open and then Joe say, "Leah?"

And then I heard Leah's voice. "Mr. Solomon, I need to see Katelyn. Actually, I need both of you."

"Umm…"

"It's okay," I said, walking out of the bedroom. "She knows."

Leah looked at me and I could tell that she'd been crying. She wore jeans and a T-shirt and her hair was in a ponytail. "Leah, what's wrong?"

She held out a small black bag. "You need to get changed into this and then you and Mr. Solomon need to come with me."

Before I could ask any questions, she said, "Just do it, Katelyn."

I nodded, gave Joe a look, and took the bag and walked into the bathroom. Leah had packed me jeans and a T-shirt similar to hers, along with my Nike Shox. She'd also included a hairbrush and a ponytail, so I pulled my hair into a messy bun and then found a makeup bag. I washed off my old makeup and put on base, brown eyeshadow, and a little bit of mascara.

Still confused, I walked out of the room and set the bag down by the couch where Leah was sitting. Joe was sitting on the chair and he looked up at me, obviously as confused as me.

"Come on," Leah said softly, standing up and heading for the door.

Joe and I followed her at a slow walk, the tension nearly tangible. What could possibly be going on that would make Leah come and find me with Joe? Was Alicia or Laura hurt? But if they were, why did she ask Joe to come, too? What could possibly be going on?

We reached an empty classroom and she opened the door and gestured us inside. Confused, I entered, and then gasped. Rider stood there, in jeans and a red Hollister shirt, his curly blond hair shorter than before and his arms crossed over his chest. Beside him, stood my father, wearing black slacks and a white shirt, his hair laid down as neatly as ever. My mother stood beside him, looking like me with flowing dark hair and bright blue eyes. The coldness in her eyes, though, would never belong to me. "Katelyn."

"Mother."

My father was looking at Joe, but he addressed Rider. "That's him?"

Rider nodded. "Yeah; that's him."

"What's going on?" I asked.

But I felt Joe stiffen beside me. "I think I know."

"Do you?" my father challenged.

"Rider told you about me and Katelyn," Joe said and I realized it was true as he said it.

I finished. "And you're here to stop it."

"That's right," my father sneered. "Laney, you may go."

Leah didn't even care that they'd addressed her by the wrong name. She gave me a sad smile as a tear slipped down her face and whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"I am, too," I whispered back as a tear fell from my eye too.


	34. Chapter 34

34.

When the door shut behind Leah, the sound seemed to echo around the room. Finally, I managed to ask, "How did you even get in here?"

My father laughed as if I'd just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard in his life. "That's a stupid question, Katelyn. You know who I am. Who _we_ are."

"I don't want to be that anymore."

Everyone stiffened and I saw Joe start a little bit, looking at me in shock.

"What did you say?" my father asked, suddenly looking vicious.

"I don't want this anymore." I said calmly. "I don't want to live this life anymore. I'm sick of it. I'm happy now; and I'm holding onto that."

"See what you've done?" my father yelled, pointing a finger at Joe. "You son of a-"

"Don't!" I yelled, stepping in front of Joe even though my father hadn't been charging at him. "Don't talk to him like that. He hasn't done anything wrong."

"Sleeping with a student isn't wrong anymore?" Rider sneered.

"And you!" I said, wheeling on him. "You have no proof of that!"

"There are tests," he said. "We could find out. And you know what they'd say, Katelyn."

"Who are you?" I asked, taking a step back. "We were best friends, Rider."

"And I wanted more!" he said. "I wanted you! We could have been happy together, Katelyn! But you chose _him_!"

"So you had to run to my parents to tell on me?" I yelled back. "Why, Rider?"

He shook his head slowly and sank into a chair at an empty table. Below us, hundreds of students and teachers were having their breakfast, feasting on waffles and fruit salad and not knowing what was happening above them. Not knowing that something bad was going to happen.

But even I didn't know what was to come. "So what now?" I asked, looking at my mother because she was the only one that hadn't spoken. I remembered all of the times that she had given me sad smiles when my father had punished me, promising without words that she still loved me and that things would be okay. "What happens now?"

She didn't give me a sad smile, though. She didn't even answer. She looked away from me.

My father was the one that spoke. "Now, you have a choice, Katelyn."

That shocked me so much that my mouth fell open in shock. I'd never had a choice with my training or where I attended school. I'd never had a choice about moving around all of the time or the things I did for fun. I didn't get chances to make a choice from him. Ever. "A choice?" I asked as if it was a foreign concept. Because, when it came to my father and my home life, it really was.

He nodded as if the idea wasn't strange and we did it all the time. We didn't, in case you missed me saying that before. "Yes. You can drink this," he pulled a vial of blue liquid out of his pocket, "or we can tell everyone, including the CIA, that our dear old Mr. Solomon has been sleeping with a student. Let's see how hard finding work becomes for him, then."

Joe visibly paled and my stomach tightened. "What is that stuff?"

"New invention from dear old Dr. White." Dr. White was a scientist from Russia that could make some pretty cool stuff. But I didn't think that liquid was cool; I knew it would be horrible.

"What is it?"

"New kind of memory modification," he said. "You won't forget any of your training, but you'll forget certain people if you haven't known them for very long."

"Forget Joe?"

"You know how difficult I can make life, Katelyn," my father said with a sneer. "For you and for him."

"Katelyn, don't," Joe suddenly said, grabbing my arm and spinning me so that I faced him. His green eyes were bright with urgency and he held me close. "Please, don't. It's not worth that."

"You don't know what he's capable of, Joe," I whispered as more tears fell from my eyes, trailing down my face at a steady pace. "He can have you killed in a heartbeat, Joe. But the one thing that he never does is break his word. If I take that memory modification, he'll leave you alone forever. You'll be safe."

"How safe is someone in my profession anyway, Katelyn?" he begged. "Please, don't do this. I love you and-"

"I know," I whispered as I stepped away from him. Shocked, he let his hands fall away from me. "I love you too, Joe. So much. And that's why I have to do this. Don't you get it? I just want you to be alive."

"What's the point without you?" he asked. "You know I'll just be lying in bed every night wishing you were beside me. I'll always be missing you and-"

"I know," I said and the tears began to fall faster, feeling like mini waterfalls down my face. "I know that, Joe, I know. But I want you to live. I want you to be okay as you can be. Please don't hate me?"

A tear fell from his eye. Wait…Joe Solomon didn't cry. Ever. He stepped forward and gave me the gentlest kiss he'd ever given me. When he pulled away, he said, "I could never hate you, Katelyn. But do you understand that I don't want you to do this?"

"Do you understand that I have to?"

He looked pained, but he nodded as he stepped away.

Impatiently, my father held out the vial. "Hurry up. Your bags are packed and in the car. We're enrolling you overseas; we've already informed the Headmistress."

"I don't get to go to Gallagher anymore?" I asked, shocked.

He shook his head and looked at his watch. "No. The memory modification is fairly new and Dr. White doesn't know if triggers can bring things back. Now, hurry up."

I looked at Joe, the man that I'd considered invincible. But he didn't look invincible anymore. He was falling apart.

And so was I. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered. "Forever."

And then I tipped the vial and let the contents pour into my mouth.


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: Before you freak out about that being the end, I just want to let you know that I'm planning on writing a sequel, alternating between Katelyn and Joe's POV. Let me know if that's a good idea or not! Thanks for reading!**


	36. Chapter 36

**I've started the new Barriers sequel! Look for it! It's called **_**Lost and Found**_**. Check it out!**


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